Grim Grinning Ghosts
by Walking as Giants
Summary: Curious and curious still, a mortal has become lost in our happy habitat. Don't worry, we'll be sure to welcome the child the best way us spooks know how. Don't think of it as getting lost, think of it as...a welcome home party. Updates on the Witching Hour.
1. Prologue

When hinges creak in door less chambers…and strange and frightening sounds echo through the halls…whenever candlelights flicker where the air is deathly still…that is the time when ghosts are present…practicing their terror with ghoulish delight.

Could you imagine the first person to have died? To have felt the sensation of being with their loved ones and leaving them to move to the other side? To wonder what was waiting for them. What reassurance would someone give them? What dead promises would you make to satisfy their anxiety? To ease their pain? There will be a light in the tunnel, an invigoration of hope and dreams.

There is no invigoration for some.

Many have pondered the nature of evil, of things going bump in the night. The truth is that evil is hardly inhuman. Often, we go about our way without you, and you just happen to bump into us. Ghosts and ghouls, from regions beyond, reach out to respond, to align and resign themselves. If someone dies, and nobody cares about them, what light could they go to? In truth, they stay, dwelling in their emptiness.

That's where I came in. I am the wise and powerful, Madame Leota. I was like many of our residents, alone, and scared, but I established the mansions, an endless web of stairs and doors leading to haunted homes across the world. From there, I would watch them, and lead them to sanctuary. 1000 years of isolation, cannot stay isolated forever. Travelers came by, from time to time, then…the brothers came.

A tall country boy in a grown man's body stood in a tan suit and a thin cap looking out over an excavation site. Around him, workers were busy cleaning up the dusted areas. His mustache was covered in dust as he looked over the project. The younger brother began to cough heavily, coughing and coughing and eventually clearing his throat before squinting in the bright sun.

"Walt!" The older brother shouted to him, and ran up in a white suit. The younger looked to him with a cigarette in his mouth, "Yeah?"

"We found something."

The younger brother followed his older sibling to a clearing. Our columns were crumbling, but in the sand and dirt, our façade was visible. Workers were brushing off the walls and picking at the roots that had grown along our borders. A Dreamer and a Designer, two brothers with a vision started building a Land around us and came across our New Orleans location.

"Anyone gone inside yet?" The Dreamer, or the younger brother asked. The Designer shook his head and explained, "No, everyone's gotten a bad feeling coming from inside."

The Dreamer looked to him then asked, "Is that right?"

He chuckled, then began to cough. His brother came to help him, but the younger brother shook it off before stepping down to the door. The Dreamer stepped up to our door, but it opened for him. He cleared his throat, then looked to the rather nervous Designer with a cheerful expression.

"Everything about what you're about to do is a bad idea." The Designer assured him. The Dreamer put out his cigarette then said, "That's what you said about Snow White."

He knocked on the open door, then called out to our hall, "Hello!"

There was no response. We weren't used to newcomers back then. He stepped inside and the floors creaked beneath his weight as he stepped forward and felt our dusty walls. He eventually made it into a large room surrounded by four portraits. He looked back at the Designer and remarked, "No windows or doors."

This was followed immediately by the floor beneath him collapsing and sending him down into our halls. The Designer shouted out for him, "Walt!"

The Dreamer coughed when he landed, waving the dust away as he climbed to his feet. "I'm fine Roy!"

"Stay there, I'm getting someone to help!" The Designer shouted down to him before running back to the workers. The Dreamer looked around at the dark halls and coughed a little more. As soon as he did, we lit the torches for him, leading him deeper. He looked down the way and leered at it, before reluctantly following them. He called us out, "You know, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you were trying to scare me."

My chamber illuminated for him. I was a crystal ball in the center of a dark room, and he was a man looking for someone to talk to. He cleared his throat, "Excuse me?"

He approached the crystal ball and sat himself down facing me. My eyes lit up from the swirling ball and looked at him. He gasped and nearly fell out of the chair.

"Who are you?" I asked, my voice echoing through the chamber. He fearfully looked around and asked, "Me?"

"No other mortals have been foolish enough to enter my chambers."

"Oh? This is your house?"

"My mansion, thank you. Mortals are not permitted in these halls."

"I'm here."

"You're dying. This is a place for the dead. Your breath is crackled and broken. It will cut you up inside."

The Dreamer gave me a look that could have killed me then asked, "And who exactly is giving me advice about what I should and should not do?"

"Her Excellency Madame Leota, maestro medium supreme." I answered. He chuckled, then introduced himself, "Well Madame Leota, I am Walter Elias Disney. I regret to inform you your mansion is right in the path of a project of mine."

"This mansion and its inhabitants will not be threatened by your accusations."

"No, no, not at all. Clearly you are a woman of great importance. How many residents are in this mansion, by chance?" The Dreamer asked.

"We have nine hundred and ninety-nine happy haunts here in our chambers." I closed my eyes, "Spirits, and souls, hidden from the sun, show yourselves by banging a drum!"

One of my drums in the corner began to bang loudly. This… 'Walter' chuckled at it, rubbing his chin, "Fascinating."

"What is?"

"What you just did? And you said they were happy haunts?"

"This is a place for them to retire and enjoy themselves, not someplace for you to rush in with your big machines."

"Of course, of course. I was just thinking, that maybe we could benefit each other."

"Explain yourself."

"Well, all of your ghosts can't possibly be that happy trapped under the ground, so I'm thinking that we excavate your mansion, maybe clean up the outside a bit and straighten the inside—"

I cut him off.

"You will not be tampering with these halls."

"No, not at all. But if we restore the mansion, then I would love to have people tour this place. It's absolutely gorgeous."

"Your pretentious compliments are appreciated, but the notion of permitting more mortals down here is ridiculous."

"Don't you want more haunts? To get out to spooking? You're ghosts, and if my entrance was anything to go by, clearly your friends are excited to scare some people. That bit with the floor? Nice but let's clean it up a bit."

"You raise a valuable suggestion Walter, but it will take more than a smile and a cute thought to convince myself and the other spirits."

"Absolutely. Tell ya what, my friends will excavate your mansion and my brother, and I will talk to you about sorting out this business of people going on tours."

"You are foolish enough to make deals with the dead?"

He chuckled and asked, shaking his head, "Dealt with worse. Ever hear of Oswald the Lucky Rabbit?"

"Walt!" The Designer shouted from down the hall, not having noticed me. The Dreamer shouted to him, "Hey Roy!"

"Walt! Stay right there, I've got help!"

"Roy! Get one of the Mickey Mouse toys from my trailer!"

"…What?"

"Trust me."

The Designer sighed, then called to one of the workers. The Dreamer went down the hall and came back with a plethora of strange objects. One of these included a small toy of a black creature with round ears and a pair of ridiculous red shorts. He offered it to me, "Here."

"What is that abomination?"

"This, is Mickey Mouse. He's a good friend of mine." He played with the arms to simulate the toy waving to me before offering it. I glared at the rat, and the man who held it. He cleared his throat then set it down at the base of my crystal. He took out another item, a round cap bearing those anatomically incorrect ears. "This is a prototype for something we're working on for the project. They're little hats you can put on your head and…"

He put them on his head and made a goofy face. How could someone his age act this immature? He set the ears next to the mouse.

"Now, we can bring more stuff for you and all your residents. And eventually word is going to get out, and I know, that we're cleaning up out there. And they'll ask questions, and you'll have to tell them. You seem like an honest person. So, if you want anything, name it. We'll give it to you." The Dreamer looked to me like a puppy awaiting a treat.

"What have you to gain from this, Walter?"

"I believe that this is a wonderful idea, and I'd like to pursue that idea to the best of my ability. We keep moving forward, opening new doors, and doing new things, because we're interested, and intrigue keeps leading us down new paths."

I blankly looked at him, then asked, "Did you steal that from somewhere?"

"No, that's my own. Needs work at that interest part though." He shrugged, then said, "It was an honor to meet you. Tomorrow, I've got another surprise for you."

"Walt!" The Designer shouted again, and he quickly rushed away. My curtains around the room came to life and picked up the toy so I could get a good look at it. Curious. A mirror floated to me, and my curtains set the hat on my crystal so it was tilted. This was obnoxious. I would never grow attached to these things. I smiled flatly and scoffed.

Every day from then for several years, my spirits and I got new toys and knickknacks. Rather than trying to destroy us, the foolish mortals tried to fix us, healed our corrupted exterior to its glory days, but we held them back from coming inside. This didn't stop them from sending more mortals into our coil. I was enraged at first, and for four years, I prohibited entry. I could only do so much for so long. That was, until the day that the Designer came down to visit us.

I was busy in my hoard of trinkets. I would never admit how many items I had collected, less I be embarrassed. I invited him in, "You may come in, Walter."

I tucked my trinkets away behind my curtains as the older brother entered. I was surprised and had never seen the older brother before. I politely asked, "Where is Walter?'

"Walt's not coming anymore." He answered, "I'm Roy."

"Don't tell me the fool is doing another South America trip."

"No…Walt…he's dead."

I stared at him in a touch of understanding and a touch of denial. I knew he was dying, but given how long it took I never considered it in forethought. The Designer was a little teary eyed.

"Dead?" I asked, having difficulty staying impartial.

"It was like you said. Habit finally caught up to him."

"…I'm sorry. Perhaps he is at one of the mansions, or the firehouse he used to live." I offered. Roy shook his head, "Madame. I came to tell you that no more gifts will be coming down here. I know you didn't care for Walt and his gifts, but I thought you might want to know."

"I understand…You're Roy, correct?"

He nodded slowly. I replied, "He talked a lot about you. A few jokes, but mostly admiration."

"Thank you."

"He loved you."

"Thank you."

A silence passed, and I offered, "I am the master medium, I could…contact him, if you'd like."

"No. I know what he would say."

"Oh."

There was another mournful silence and Roy turned to go leave, "He was always disappointed you never said yes."

As the old man turned and began to leave I called out to him, "Roy…"

He turned and saw my curtains reveal the massive accumulation of gifts I had gotten. With reluctancy, I admitted, "Anything not here is with one of my subjects. Walt made them very happy. Made all of us very happy…I will speak to my companions and…will make an arrangement regarding the deal."

"Thank you, I know that's very difficult to open up like that."

"I think you and Walt both deserve it. Now begone…"

He left, and I looked back to my stash. I summoned my mirror again and my curtains set the hat on my head before showing me the toy of the mouse. I pretended it walked for a little bit, and tried to call out to him, but there was nothing. All that I could do was call to my committee, and perhaps…perhaps, make something good out of all this.

"They want to corrupt our world! This puts all the Mansions in jeopardy!" Mister Gracey Sr. shouted. He was a plump man with a black waistcoat and a professional beard. Unfortunately, this notable professionalism was tactically obliterated by his red and white striped underpants.

"I think it's rather nice to have them here. I've never seen our residents so happy. They don't get much interaction outside of the mansion." Sally pointed out. She was dressed in a red and white dress with an umbrella by her side. "We need new things to progress."

"And how much space will they take? Hm? I heard what that mortal with the mustache wanted. He wanted to have mortals come through our halls, and even more mortals act as butlers and maids! They're stealing our jobs. He was a Dreaming fool!" Gracey shouted, pacing about the room.

"You will not speak ill of the dead!" I commanded. I was a swirling ball of blue fire at that age. I hadn't even learned to float yet. But my seance chamber was more than compliant in curtaining off any guests who came to talk with me. About my room I kept tokens, dead and living, of instruments and tarot cards. I liked to be aware of my surroundings. I still do.

"The Dreaming Brother was a showman, but he was not a fool. Perhaps you could learn a thing or two from him about being aware of others." I corrected Gracey. Gracey scolded back, "You know perfectly that it was an accident."

"Your cohorts set you up to blow into a billion pieces after your statement regarding immigration, how is that accidental?" Sally asked, shaking her head.

"Your inflated ego is not required at this moment, or do you want more to gawk at your stockings? No wonder the alligator that swallowed you died from makeup poisoning. It's caked on you like grease!"

"Silence! Both of you! It doesn't matter if you were beautiful, or if you were politically important, because both of you are dead, aren't you? Need I get the other two involved?" I did my best to keep the childish adults under control. The threat of the other two was more than enough incentive.

"I don't want to have to deal with that pauper and that psychopath as much as everyone." Gracey mumbled. He fell back in a big wooden chair and began to rub his brow in stress. Although it was difficult to take him seriously when his boxers were out in the open.

"I've been talking with their engineers. They scoured our ranks and we found someone who could lead the guests through the mansion without causing problems." I suggested, and I often wondered how they gained access to our records. Regardless, I was rather excited to show the group this newcomer. I almost smiled.

"Who? Oh, please don't say it's Murphy." Sally turned horrified for a second, but I reassured her, "No, it's someone a little more suited to the position."

"What is he? Rich? Gorgeous? Loved? Wealthy? We want to leave a good impression on these mortals, so they know they will never amount to us." Gracey barked, but I elected to ignore his tone.

"He is none of the above, he was a nobody, a nothing in life. He took his own life because he thought it was the only way out. Hung himself in the observatory." I corrected. The silence that followed was awkward and cold. In a place full of death, taking a life, especially your own, still had some ground.

"He…killed himself?" Sally asked, kind of in shock, "Poor thing can't be in great shape."

"Myself and the engineers hoped that since he had no purpose in life, he'd find one in death. Enter, please." I invited the proposal. He was underwhelming in appearance, but perhaps the mortals would take comfort in it. He was a scrawny and tall man with long greased grey hair. His face was forgettable, and overall, he was near transparent.

He wore a blue torn coat and tan pants. 'Round his neck was a cut noose and a long nose protruded from his face.

"Introduce yourself." I ordered. He obliged with a wicked grin. He had been preparing for this. He opened his arms like a show-master. "Welcome, foolish mortals. I am your Host, your Ghost Host."

"That is quite the set of pipes." Sally noted. Gracey countered, "You can lead them through all you like, but this is about population control. There are nine hundred and ninety-nine ghosts in any mansion at any given day. We're already overcrowded. Adding mortals into the mix would just create more problems."

"These Mansions are more than big enough to deal with a few mortals. And to that point, a few of our ghouls have noticed a recurring pattern when some of our ghosts follow the guests." I let the room do enough explaining. My blue fire lit up the sides of the curtains to create a vision above all of them.

It showed a ghost sitting next to a guest on a buggy and continuing to be by the guest until they left the Mansion, upon that time, the ghost roamed freely around the square.

"For the first time in centuries, ghosts can leave the Mansion by hitchhiking with a guest, allowing them to roam the world freely. Some of our residents who may not feel welcome or want to go places they couldn't in life would take satisfaction in following guests." I explained, and our Host chuckled, "A ghost will follow you home."

"Indeed." I approved of the remark. "It should take care of that population control you were so worried about Mister Gracey. Shouldn't it?"

"Yes." He cleared his throat. "Yes, it should. I'll allow it, but…I won't enjoy it."

"Have your heads fallen empty?" An annoyed old voice asked, barging into the room. A crouched man with wild hair and a walking stick came through. He was unlike the others and had a skeletal face with a gold tooth and a large top hat. The corpse-like ghoul looked annoyed.

"Whatever happened to respecting the wellbeing of everyone? Those little rugrats will wipe their snot all over well-aged ghosts like us!" The Hatbox ghost shouted out, waving his walking stick in the air.

"This is about the betterment of the Mansion, Hatbox, not your personal preference." I grew tired of the old thing sometimes. At least Constance had patience.

"They're loud, annoying, and needy! Let me just leave this dirty diaper here on the table, and expect everyone else to clean it, no, I can't possibly take my peeing child to the bathroom, let me just change its diaper right on the food buffet!" Hatbox screeched, grabbing his hat in frustration and squeezing it tightly.

"I think you should see someone about your diaper hatred." The Host pointed out, but Hatbox turned to him and scowled to silence him.

"We have already reached a conclusion, Hatbox." I tried to conclude this argument as quickly as possible, but the old coot didn't have it, "If you go through this, I'll leave this Mansion forever."

"Ok." Everyone else said simultaneously before returning to normal. Hatbox scowled and walked off grumbling and mumbling.

"So, we have reached an agreement?" I asked the three. Sally nodded, "Absolutely, if it doesn't work, we'll just close it off again."

"It won't matter. Who in their right mind would want to come to a Haunted Mansion anyway?" Gracey asked, looking at the others.


	2. Chapter 1: Daily Scares

46 Years later.

The moon was a pure white, and the hour was now, on a cold night in January, that the Mansion put up it's Christmas decorations and prepared for the slow off-season. However, that wasn't the important part. The important part was that it was showtime. Butlers and maids worked the entrance of the mansion, letting in crowds of people into the massive marble columns and front door. While the mortals in their green jackets and blouses tended to the crowds, up above, crows watched overhead.

"Quite the overhaul, don't you think?" The Ghost Host asked the crows. He was watching with eerie eyes from above, chuckling to himself. "Must be remnants of New Year's."

An old gramophone sat beside him on the roof, which soon protruded a voice of some of the mortal cast members, "Host, you're on in five minutes."

"Ah yes, the collective collusion of the children young and old. Well then, old friend, we mustn't keep them." He chuckled and stroked the crow's chin before vanishing in a puff of smoke.

As a maid opened the front door with a grave expression, she announced, "Your time has come…"

The crowds came into the room, blissfully unaware of the Ghost Host floating down and sitting down on the door behind them as they entered. He chuckled and waved his hand in front of the guests, who couldn't see him in this ghostly state. He flew over to the corner and introduced himself and the mansion, "When hinges creak in doorless chambers…and strange and frightening sounds echo through the halls…whenever candlelights flicker where the air is deathly still…that is the time when ghosts are present, practicing their terror with ghoulish delight."

He tried to open the door into the next room, but phased right through the wall, trying a few times before eventually one of the cast members caved and opened it for him. The maid stuck her tongue out at the ghoul, to which the Host stuck his right back to be spiteful before reassuming character and leading the guests into the next room.

"Here you see some of our guests as they appeared in their corruptible…mortal states. Please move into the dead center of the room, there's no turning back now." The Host floated above them before finally resting on a gargoyle as the guests entered the Stretching Room. He gave them time to take pictures before nodding to the maid to close the door.

The Host looked around at the portraits, and eventually locked eyes with the portrait of Constance. He got an unsettling feeling, like his stomach and heart were empty of all fluid and muscles. He knew it was a portrait, but in his time in the Mansion, he knew well enough to avoid her gaze. He shook himself out of the funk and returned to the introduction.

"Your cadaverous calor betrays an aura of foreboding. As if you sense a disquieting metamorphosis. Is this haunted room actually stretching? Or is just your imagination?" He walked along the gargoyles, circling the guests, taunting them and stroking his chin. The room began to stretch, the portraits turning sinister as they reached up further and further to the observatory.

"And consider this dismaying observation. This chamber has no windows…and no doors." He stopped at one of the gargoyles and prepared for the big reveal.

"Which leaves you this chilling challenge…to find a way out." The Host burst into laughter, then added, "Of course…there's always my way."

The lights went out and The Host's corpse dangled from the ceiling above. The Host tried not to think about the fact his dead body was literally hanging right above him. It had become routine for him, and in that time, he hadn't really had a chance to regard the existential crisis that came with knowing your corpse was right above you always.

There was a scream, and someone broke that window again. Gus would have to fix it later. The Ghost Host looked out on the faces on the guests with wicked delight, "Oh, I didn't mean to frighten you prematurely. The real chills some later. Now, as they say, look alive."

The Host led them through the queue into the Doombuggy entrance, where he lowered the safety bars for his guests before jumping aboard atop the buggy as it rode through the mansion.

"We find it delightfully unlivable here in this ghostly retreat. Every room has wall to wall creeps and hot and cold running chills." The Host rested atop one of the Doombuggies and watched over the corridor of doors as it passed by a coffin which failed to open. He was annoyed and leapt from his buggy and kicked the coffin to wake up the ghost inside, who immediately began to try and escape again, "Hey! What's going on? Let me out! Let me out of here!"

The Host was satisfied with this development and chuckled, "Unfortunately, they all seem to have trouble getting through. Perhaps Madame Leota can establish contact."

He climbed aboard the top of the buggy again in a relaxed pose. He began to close his eyes and doze off until they entered the séance room.

I spotted him there, resting on the job, and floated up from my table to look at him, before clearing my throat. He rose instantly and stood up, chuckling nervously. I rolled my eyes and continued with the ritual.

"Creepies and crawlies, toads in a pond; let there be music from regions beyond!" I basked in as sound echoed throughout my chamber and glimmers of light shined as ghosts and ghouls played their cursed tunes. In the meantime, the Host took his leave, explaining to the guests in excitement, "The happy haunts have received your sympathetic vibrations and are beginning to materialize. They're assembling for a swinging wake, and they'll be expecting me. I'll see you all a little later…"

The Host leapt off the buggy and floated down to the dining room below for dinner. "Great Caesar! What delightful desserts do we have today?"

"Ah, Mr. Host. I have the most wonderful Devil's food chocolate cake." The partygoer replied. Caesar was a spoiled soft-spoken person. It was often unclear what gender he or she was, but it was clear that they loved cake and all its delicacies. "I'll be sure to get myself a slice."

Caesar took a knife and cut a tiny sliver from the cake and set aside on a plate before taking the rest of the cake and dumping it on their plate.

The tiny sliver was for the Host, and Caesar pushed it forward for him, "Here you are. As for everyone else, there should be more on the way, don't worry. Our chef makes a killer angel food cake."

"Thank you, Great Caesar." The Host replied. Caesar patiently asked, "Will you be staying for second supper?"

"No, he's got work to do." A voice from above interluded. Pickwick looked down from the chandelier upside-down, "Don't you?"

"Your denominations do not disturb me, Pickwick." The Host ate his cake without looking and continued.

"You need to learn to relax. Have a drink and take in death for all it's worth. Carpe diem! Seize the death." Pickwick clutched his cane and dangled from the chandelier with a bottle in his hand.

"I have regarded your opinion and elected it to be a foolish one." The Host finished his cake then set it down, "They should be arriving at the Graveyard soon, I best join them to finish today's tours."

"Do come back later!" Caesar waved him away, while The Host left to attend to the guests once more.

The Host flew out the window into the graveyard below. His efforts rewarded him, and he spotted a buggy moving into the mausoleum. "Ah! There you are!"

Meanwhile, the other ghosts were busy performing their entertainment for the guests, singing away. The headbusts, Dan, Daniel, Danny, and Bob, were busy doing acapella while the five musicians played background music.

"When the crypt doors creak and the tombstones quake,

Spooks come out for a swingin' wake

Happy haunts materialize, and begin to vocalize,

Grim grinnin' ghosts come out to socialize.

Now don't close your eyes and don't try to hide

Or a silly spook may sit by your side

Shrouded in a daft disguise, they pretend to terrorize,

Grim grinnin' ghosts come out to socialize

As the moon climbs high o'er the dead oak tree

Spooks arrive for the midnight spree

Creepy creeps with eerie eyes, start to shriek and harmonize

Grim grinnin' ghosts come out to socialize!

When you hear the knell of the requiem bell

Weird glows gleam where spirits dwell

Restless bones etherealize, rise as spooks of every size

If you would like to join our jamboree

There's a simple rule that's compulsory

Mortals pay a token fee, rest in peace, the haunting's fee

So, hurry back, we would like your company!"

He floated down to sit on the buggy but the screech of a short ghost with a massive beard parked promptly on the buggy. Gus, the prisoner, lifted his ball and chain up and over onto the buggy when the Host tapped on his shoulder. "Ahem."

"Occupied." Gus replied without looking.

"I need to sit there."

"No habla espanol."

"I'm speaking English."

"I'm with child."

"You're a man."

Gus turned to look at him and asked, "Are you familiar with the tale of Darth Pelagius the wise?"

The Host grew tired of the hitchhiking ghost's shenanigans but looked ahead to see the borders of the mansion, marked by a butler helping people off the buggy. With it, was an archway to knock off anyone sitting where they weren't supposed to. The Host chose to back up a little bit and watched as Gus was hit in the head and fell onto the track below, letting out a shout.

"Ugh. Oh no." He was hit again in the head by another buggy, "Ow."

This was followed by another.

"Ow."

And another

"That's my nose."

Another.

"Everything hurts."

"Hold on Gus, I think I got one!" A crackled voice shouted out to the prisoner. A skeleton in a long tuxedo was hugging another buggy as it passed under the archway. He let out a cheerful laugh until one of the bricks beside him opened and a skeleton hand reached out and grabbed his shirt tail, pulling it back like a slingshot.

The shirt came back and snapped against Ezra and smacked him off onto the ground. He let out a pained groan.

"Gentleman, our ride is here!" A third ghost called from an empty Doombuggy. Professor Phineas Pock gave a smug look and reached out to the other two. Ezra and Gus leapt aboard, only for all three to be stopped by the Ghost Host raising the lap bar and crossing their arms at the trio.

Phineas nervously chuckled and all three of the hitchhikers raised their thumbs and sent it back to ask, "Anaheim or bust?"


	3. Chapter 2: Find a way out

The Host tossed the three out of the buggy and dragged Phineas by his ear and down the hall and through the door back into the mansion. Ezra and Gus, loyal to their friend and leader, followed behind towards the séance room.

"You three have certainly set yourselves out to be quite the troublesome trio." The Host said as he led the three.

"Hosty, Ghosty, who I like the mosty, you have to understand. Us three just want to see the world outside these cold walls." Phineas spun around and held his heart.

"The last time we let you out, you tried to test gravity at the castle with a baby." The Host reminded the swooning swine. Phineas cleared his throat and pointed out, "We did give it back."

"You asked the mother to catch it as you dropped it."

"Which she did, and somehow, we became the bad guys."

"You reek of rot, Phineas. You are a liar, a cheater, and a charlatan."

"Professor Phineas. I didn't go to CalArt and earn my position to be called Mr. Phineas Pock."

"Everyone else got the flu on testing day."

"Good times."

The four made it into the séance room where I was busy closing for the day. A butler was going through a scroll with a checklist. I asked the boy, "The drapes have been dusted?"

"Yes mam, heavily sprayed with dust." He replied, going down the list.

"And the spider webs?"

"All spiders have paid their rent."

"And all guests have been accounted for?"

"Yes. I believe so."

"Wonderful. You may go home and rest. Rise from your bed tomorrow. And no smiling." I reminded him. The butler nodded and took the scroll and tucked it into his jacket on his way out of the room. I reluctantly addressed the hitchhiking ghosts.

"Why is it whenever there's trouble, it's you three?" I asked, breathing a dead sigh. Phineas was released and put before me. He took off his hat and put it to his chest.

"Oh, great and wise, Madame Leota. It is an honor to see you in the flesh." He bowed, to which I rolled my eyes. He took one of the curtains hanging by me and kissed it as if it were my hand. I hardly reacted, but instead wiped my curtain on the wall. Filthy con.

"Surely, when you reached out to the mortals, you knew some ghosts would want to see the world, and reach out to other mortals on the horizon? Our very beings are trapped here, and heartbroken!" He put the back of his hand to his forehead and laid back against one of the tables in woe. His companions joined in.

"What terrible fates! What wretched agony!" Ezra, the tallest of the three pounded his heart and cried out. The third, Gus didn't do much, and instead added, "Actually your gingerbread's nice."

Phineas and Ezra both gave him an annoyed look.

"Oh. Right. Boo hoo. Boo hoo." Gus realized his mistake and although lacking in expression, did join in the vocalization.

"You see. We're dying to see the world outside these walls." Phineas fluttered his eyelashes. He turned around and picked up Gus with both hands. "Look how sad this baby is!"

"I'm 96." Gus said quietly when he was shoved in my face. Phineas threw him back at Ezra, who caught him and set him down.

"Professor, you played catch with a mortal baby." I unwaveringly reminded him.

"No, he's 96, he just said that."

"A _mortal_ baby."

"The baby didn't complain."

"That is not the point." I slowly began to lose patience. "Every time you are let out, you go out to graveyards and disrupt everyone trying to mourn with your childish antics."

"They're fickle. Someone needs to lighten up around here!" Phineas looked to Ezra and Gus who nodded, then back to Leota.

"Professor Phineas Pock, you are never leaving this Mansion. That is my final statement on the matter. Now be gone!" I cast a wave of blue fire and the trio were teleported back to the mausoleum where they belonged.

"They're getting worse you know. They started swapping Guest's faces." The Host pointed out, "I fear for their safety."

"Good. Fear keeps you on your guard. Makes sure those three or _she_ doesn't do anything dangerous." I reminded him, and on that note, I made sure to check with him, "Constance hasn't left the attic, has she?"

"No, thankfully. Her isolation inside is insurance we won't run into any difficulties." The Host reassured me. I wish I knew then what I did now about what was about to happen.

"Excellent. If you could go back through and double check, that would be wonderful."

"Of course." He said robotically. I was caught off-guard by the silence that followed. "Are you alright, Host?"

"Yes, of course."

"Ok. I know that you deal with a lot here in the Mansion. From fellow ghosts and guests alike. I don't want you to be frustrated."

"I'm ok. I'm used to it."

"You are sure?"

"Yes." He told me. I eyed him closely. He didn't seem his usual cold and wicked self. He seemed weary. I gave him a final instruction and told him, "Make sure you don't go in the attic alone. Bring a maid with you if necessary."

"Of course." The Host confirmed and left to attend to the rest of the attraction. Little to our knowledge, not everyone had been accounted for. Faces old and new had arrived at the mansion, invited, or otherwise.


	4. Chapter 3: A Corruptible Mortal

In one of the Doombuggies was the shadow of someone napping. Lillian Harper wasn't like most arrivals at the mansion. She hadn't died to come here. In fact, she had no idea that the mansion was more than an attraction, that everything here was real. On that shadow came a lantern of someone investigating the buggy.

Caretaker Paul Baker wasn't used to seeing other mortals. On that same notion when he saw a small child resting in the buggy, he had to poke her with a stick to verify she was, in fact, not a ghost. "Oh no… Oh no no!"

He looked around and reached down into the buggy to pick up the child, carrying her out of the buggy towards the graveyard. He covered her on his way, looking around and leading underneath the dead oak tree into an old shack beside the mansion. The shack was small and cramped, it felt rushed, like it was nailed together out of fear and panic.

The Caretaker set Lillian down on a rag bed then immediately turned around to lock the door. This door was loaded with lock after lock after padlock after nailed lock. He breathed sharply and panicked as he looked through a peephole. Lillian had awoken and slowly watched the Caretaker as he checked the outside. She slowly reached for her back pocket and took out a small spray.

The Caretaker turned around and was instantly sprayed with pepper spray. He let out a squeal and fell back onto a pile of chains and tools to set them up. He held his face and screamed as he tried to get up until Lillian smacked him over the head with a shovel and knocked him back down.

"Where am I?" Lillian held the shovel to his throat.

"I found you in one of the buggies, please calm down. They'll hear you." The Caretaker whined and covered himself in shame.

"Who are you? Talk or taste my blade!" Lillian twisted the shoved like a sword towards the Caretaker.

"I'm the Caretaker. My name is Paul Baker. Now please! They'll hear you, now please! Be quiet!"

"Who are you talking about?" Lillian was caught off guard when there was a scratching at the door. The two were silenced and Lillian kept the Caretaker at length when reaching for the door knob. She noticed the multiple locks, then reached for the uppermost lock.

The scratching stopped, and it was immediately followed by the door knob wiggling and shaking. Lillian watched the knob then investigated the peephole. There was nothing on the other side, just the empty black air of the night. Lillian looked back at the doorknob, which had stopped shaking. Suddenly it started up again and rattled harder. She grabbed the knob and it stopped. She investigated the peephole again, to see more nothing.

Lillian released the knob, "See? The wind."

"Not the wind. Not here." The Caretaker turned towards the floor and began to push some of the random clutter away. He ran into the kitchen and picked up a sleeping old dog who hadn't even noticed them come in, let alone the chaos around them.

"Where are you going? We aren't done here!" Lillian abandoned the door to reach for the Caretaker, who lifted a secret trapdoor and helped his dog inside. She grabbed his shoulder, "Hey! What are you so afraid of?"

The knob began to turn, rotating slowly until it reached a soft click of someone trying to open the door. Lillian's breath was dry, and she watched as the knocker on the other side of the door clicked over and over. She slowly took steps toward the door and peered to the other side.

Nothing was there.

Lillian backed away as one of the padlocks opened and unlocked before clattering onto the ground. She breathed heavily, trying to control her intake and outtake.

Another padlock clicked off.

The Caretaker took his things and ducked into the trap door, locking it above him and leaving Lillian to whatever was outside. Lillian rushed to the trap door and began to pull on the hatch, shouting at the old man, "Come back here!"

The board keeping the door from opening fell to the ground and clattered on the floor. One of the other locks began to slide open, but Lillian quickly grabbed the small knob on the sliding lock to hold it back. The force exerted back on her to open it began to bruise her fingers, but she continued to pull back, so it didn't open the door. Lillian held her whole body against the door as the lock slid so fast that it cut her finger.

She kept pushing against the door, her sneakers skidding in the floor below in scraped splinters. Lillian grit her teeth and pushed against the door harder until finally the opposite force stopped. She fell to the floor from her own force and slipped. Lillian took some deep breaths then reluctantly held her ear to the door. On the other side, she couldn't hear anything but her own breath echoing in the night.

Reluctantly, but almost instinctively, she looked through the peephole. There was still nothing, then a skeletal finger dove through the hole out her like a spike. Lillian fell backward, covering her eyes to prevent that bony thing from taking out her eyes. She looked back to see the finger spread into a full hand that reached entirely through the peephole, cracking and snapping as the bones broke then reformed. The arm reached for the sliding lock and unlocked the door before retracting back to the other side.

Lillian grabbed her pepper spray and the shovel, then hurried to the corner. When the door swung outward, she was safely hidden behind it. The hunched clack of old leather entered the room, and pointed shoes walked along the floor, followed by the clunk of a walking stick. The smell of old dust and rot entered the room, as she watched the shoes enter the shack and look around.

Something cracked its jaw and immediately turned towards her. Lillian held her breath, but the tips of the shoes still pointed directly at her. A deep voice like that of someone being smothered said, "A heart beat is a rare occurrence in these parts. Ask yourself…Do you really think that silly spray and shovel will work…on me?"

A wicked green eye flew to the peephole and looked at her from the other side, but Lillian instantly sprayed pepper into the weak spot. A howl off pain came from the other side of the door. Lillian kicked the door open and slammed it against the creature on the other side. Lillian opened the door while the monster tried to recover.

She smacked the robed corpse with the shovel then stabbed it in the shoulder, causing it to scream louder. Instead of running away, Lillian decided to try and finish the job before this thing kept at it. She hit it at third time then proceeded to hit it with the shovel over and over until the spade was lodged in corpse's back.

The monster let out a whine of pain, clawing at the door to try to climb up, but Lillian swatted its hand away. She held the pepper spray and directed it towards the monster's head.

"I don't know what you are, but I have things that hurt a lot more than a shovel in this shack." Lillian threatened, holding the creature back. The monster twisted on its back, revealing a greening corpse empty of anything with long wiry hair stepping from its head beneath a large top hat. It wore a big black cloak and its ribs were visible. Lillian didn't hesitate even though it was just a corpse, she had seen enough horror movies to know it could get back up.

Two green eyes rolled into the skull and the monster lunged for the spray, but Lillian blasted it into the ghost's face. It screamed at her, "Wretched little child!"

"Who are you, where am I, and what do you want?"

"I…, am Hatbox. You are in the Haunted Mansion, and I had hoped to spook the Caretaker before my big reveal to the others you brat." The ghost explained, trying to rub the spray out of his eyes.

"The Haunted Mansion, like the ride?"

"No, like the film, yes the ride! I think I need a rag to get this out."

"But you're real."

"Are you going to continue to prolong this cliché introduction or are you going to help me?"

"Why am I here?"

"My best guess is that your ignorance led you to fall asleep. The Caretaker took you here, because I guess he didn't realize you were a maniac!" Hatbox groaned again, and Lillian took the time to pocket the spray. Lillian glared down at him, then stepped over the ghost into the graveyard. The graveyard outside was a hard purple, shrouded in fog and mist. Lillian tried to scout out what she was looking for, but unfortunately, the path wasn't entirely clear. Hatbox began to get back up behind her, but Lillian soon turned back around and stepped over him, delivering a sharp kick to the head in the process. She took a few things, preparing for the upcoming journey this included a rope, some old cookies, and a set of keys.

Lillian stepped out into the graveyard like she was walking into the apocalypse, and on her way, leaving nothing but chaos in her wake.


	5. Chapter 4: Follow you Tomb

The Host arrived soon thereafter, stumbling upon the scene in a state of shock. Hatbox was still in a bad condition. He was surprised to see this, and even more surprised to see Hatbox, who long ago had decided to leave the mansion out of a loathing of mortals. He took the opportunity to dig the shovel out of the old ghost's back.

"I didn't expect to see you here." The Host noted as he tossed the shovel away and helped Hatbox up. Hatbox immediately grabbed the Host by his shoulders and explained, "There's a maniac loose in the mansion."

"What? Did Constance get out?" The Host asked, pushing Hatbox off him delicately. The older ghost held himself up with his cane and explained, "No. I followed a mortal to get back in. I tried to spook her, and she went crazy. Now she's out in the mansion."

The Host rolled his eyes, then explained, "Hatbox, you can't do that. When people get scared, they can lash out, mortal or immortal. She's probably running around terrified and looking for a way out. I'll find her, and one of the butlers will help her out without any problems. Ok?"

"Wretched thing should get the business end of Constance's axe." Hatbox mumbled, but the Host didn't have it, "She is going nowhere near Constance. Speak to Leota so you'll be checked in, then get yourself arranged."

He patted Hatbox on the back and sent him on his way. The Host fixed his rambled collar, then went into the graveyard to look for this loose mortal.

This loose mortal had found herself walking through an empty graveyard, searching for any sign of life. Much to her surprise, all the ghosts and ghouls she had seen on the ride had since vanished or left. Lillian kept on her guard as she approached the mausoleum, which, much to her surprise was filled with noise.

She entered and found Ezra working as a ticket taker, letting people in. He was in a different hat, but the skeleton was recognizable.

"Step right up and enter folks! The great Psychic Professor Phineas Pock can accommodate everyone! Come! Come!" Ezra called, handing out small slips of paper and taking ancient coins.

"Eh?" one ghost asked, lifting a cone to hear Ezra.

"He said that there's a psychic inside!" A mummy beside the ghost explained to him. The ghost lifted the hearing cone to the mummy, who sighed and rolled his eyes, taking the cone in one swipe and holding it to his mouth to shout, "He said there's a psychic inside!"

"Oh. I love sidekicks. Like you!" the deaf ghost nodded and took his cone back gently. The mummy facepalmed and followed behind as they went inside. Ezra looked forward to the next one, a king and a queen.

"We have fast passes." The queen said, presenting the tickets. Ezra took them and looked them over, "I'm sorry, these are for Phantom Manor in Disneyland Paris."

"So? Can't you just change them?" the king asked.

"If they were digital, you could change it and add new ones."

"Why can't you change them?"

"Because this is for a different attraction. In a different park. In a different country."

"Let me speak to your manager." The queen demanded. Ezra inhaled sharply and closed his eyes before desperately trying to keep up that smile. He took the cone from the other ghost and shouted into the atrium, "Hey Professor, I need your help."

Phineas floated down and looked at the two. He took one look at the tickets then concluded, "Just let them in."

"You sure?"

"Just…just let them in."

The King and Queen both gave Ezra a flat smile, like he was inferior in every way shape and form. Ezra kept smiling and asked Phineas, "Why…why?"

"They're not worth it." Phineas assured him before returning to the atrium. Ezra inhaled and exhaled slowly before returning to the next guest.

"Hello, I have universal tickets." A shrouded purple ghost offered the tickets.

"Um. We don't accept those tickets here."

"But when I got them they said they were universal."

"Not that kind of…" Ezra inhaled his sigh and smiled harder, then shouted back in the atrium, "Phineas!"

As Lillian went through the crowd, she was next in line to get tickets from Ezra. Ezra greeted her with a patient smile and a slimmer of depression. His jaw dropped when he saw her. She was a mortal. A living mortal. He checked his watch, then looked back at her.

"Um…what's going on here?" Lillian asked. This young woman wondered more often than copyright infringement. Ezra picked his jaw up and took back his role, "Ah yes! This is a chance to greet the almighty psychic, the great Professor Phineas Pock!"

"I was hoping for a way out." Lillian explained, "Is there any way to get across?"

"Nope, not until after the show." Ezra told her, and by that time, they might be able to get out of here.

"Ok. How much is it?"

"Well, you're mortal and we only accept immortal currency so…I can't really convert it here." Ezra explained.

"I don't actually have any money on me, so…" Lillian explained, and Ezra didn't have it. Yes, this mortal hadn't exactly planned anything but without her help, nobody was going to be happy.

"Tell ya what. How about we reach an arrangement? I'll let you pass if you help out all three of us with the show?"

"Really?" Lillian hadn't expected that to be an option, but she'd be all too happy to. Despite the hiccup with Hatbox, she could tell this was still the Haunted Mansion that she had been on before. "What kind of show?"

"After Professor Phineas does his thing, all three of us are going to do an undead classic. A real shuffle called the Skeleton Dance." He rubbed his jaw and explained, "Think of it like a dance party."

"Ok. Sure!" Lillian hesitantly agreed.

"Excellent! See you after the show." Ezra let her in and gave a wicked smile. Phineas would be delighted for sure. That mortal was their ticket out of this place.

The inside of the mausoleum had been decorated with archways and orange flowers. On a makeshift stage was Professor Phineas Pock himself. He appeared in a flash of smoke and wowed the audience. Phineas was dressed in a big flowing purple outfit and a big goofy square hat he got at a thrift store.

"Heroes and villains, of every size! Lend me your ears, lend me your eyes!" Phineas said in his best Madame Leota impression. He was immediately treated to everyone in the audience plucking out their eyes and offering them.

"Ew! Not what I meant!" Phineas cringed and tried not to look. He returned to his calm and wise façade in an instant and looked over the crowd. "I am the greatest psychic within about five feet! No one can match my power!"

"Then prove it!" Ezra shouted from the ticket booth before snickering at the fool. Phineas deadpanned at him, then returned to normal, "I'm glad you asked _valued guest._ See that candle up there?"

He pointed with two fingers up at a lone candle in the window. The whole crowd directed their attention towards the candlestick. Phineas proclaimed, "With my psychic powers, I will make it go out without touching it! Right…now!"

He held his fingers to his forehead and watched the candle. Nothing, unsurprisingly, happened. Ezra shouted out, "Hey! You aren't a real psychic! Faker!"

Phineas was going to kill Ezra for this. Ezra was already dead, but he would find a way. Phineas announce again. "I said _Right now!_ "

Backstage, Gus was happily fast asleep when suddenly he felt the swift kick of Phineas kicking the wall he was resting on to wake him up. Gus yawned then mumbled to himself, "I have to do everything around here."

He got up and climbed up a ladder to the other side of the window the candle was resting on. With a huge puff, he blew out the candle, and the crowd let out a collective gasp of amazement, while Phineas let out a sigh of relief.

"With my psychic powers, I will now speak to the dead!" Phineas proclaimed, and the crowd awaited the reveal. Ezra stepped on stage and extended his hand for a handshake, "Hi, how are you?"

"Good, thanks, how are you?" Phineas asked, shaking Ezra's hand. Ezra nodded, "Good."

He left the stage then the crowd cheered. Lillian facepalmed at the exchange. Phineas held his two fingers to his forehead again and announced, "My psychic senses tell me someone in this theatre has a name that begins with a letter of the alphabet."

One woman raised her hand. "My name starts with a letter of the alphabet!"

"Ah yes! What does your name start with?" Phineas asked, to which the woman quickly responded, "U."

"…Really?" Phineas had secretly been hoping for something common. "What is your name?"

"Ufjlasdhfkjashfkjwhfjd Smith." She responded. Phineas just stared at her for a second, then said, "Ah! Just as I sensed! Everyone give a hand to Ufilas-Ufilas- Ms. Smith everyone!"

The crowd cheered and Ms. Ufilasdh- Ms. Ufila- Ms. Smith was delighted. Phineas continued the performance, calling out people who thankfully had less than ten syllables in their names, until finally he announced, "Now, for our final act my friends and I will be bringing a guest from the audience on stage and showing everyone how to do the skeleton dance. Come on up Lillian!"

Lillian anxiously stepped on stage, where Phineas bowed and removed the giant square hat from his head for her, only to reveal his comparatively smaller, normal hat underneath. Gus and Ezra climbed on stage, and Phineas explained how to do the dance.

"Firstly, you must hold your arms to your side like this, you see?" He squatted his knees slightly and bent his arms at a right angle, then clattered forward, shaking his upper body from left to right. Ezra and Gus did the same, then all three looked to Lillian to do the same. She proceeded to perform the first part of the dance, shaking her head in the process.

"Make sure to keep your head level so your brains don't fall out. Now, look to your left, and look to your right."

Ezra, Gus, and Lillian, followed the commands.

"And bounce your shoulders!" Phineas proceeded to bounce his shoulders, "Now, hands to your hips and to the left!"

Phineas put his hands to his hips and walked to the left. Then he bounced his shoulders again and did it to the right. "Now wiggle your whole body!"

The group swayed from side to side, following the instructions. "And down!"

Phineas shook as he bent down, then rose up suddenly, and the group followed his lead. He bounced his shoulders again and everyone repeated the process. Once they had done it a second time, Phineas offered his hands to everyone and the group spun in a circle before releasing.

Baring Phineas' display, everyone stuck two forefingers atop their heads and spun around on one foot.

"Excellent! Has everyone gotten it?" Phineas asked the crowd. "Now, Gus, would you please?"

Gus lifted a massive gramophone and set it on stage. Ezra slipped a record onto it from his back pocket, and soon the music began to play, a bouncing grim tone. The crowd did their best to follow along, which was increasingly difficult for some people without heads. They continued the dance until finally, everyone noticed that Lillian was a mortal. Which, they didn't care about. With all the talk about the higher ranked ghouls concerned about mortals being involved, and how to organize the situation, sometimes it was good to just have fun with them and enjoy being with a guest.

It wasn't long until the dance finished and Phineas, Ezra, and Gus, closed the show. Lillian came to them afterwards and asked for their help. "So, now that the show is over, you can get me out of here, right?"

"Who are you?" Gus asked, while Phineas was busy talking with another ghost.

"I'm Lillian, I fell asleep on one of the buggies then woke up here." She explained. Ezra had to ask, "Which part?"

"You know that bit after the attic when you're going down backwards, and it feels like a bed?"

"That'll do it." Gus agreed, nodding slowly.

"Ok, what is it you two wanted to talk to me about?" Phineas asked, finishing with the other ghost to talk with the three. He extended his hand to Lillian, "Salutations, I am the Great Professor Phineas Pock, a professional proprietor of precise proportions. This is Ezra Ebbins, evidently an engenious educator, and that's Gus who is about to correct the spelling of ingenious."

"Just Gus?" Lillian shook his hand, then looked at Gus. The trio nodded simultaneously and agreed, "Just Gus."

"Lillian here was looking for a way out." Ezra explained, and Phineas nodded. "Ah! Not a problem, not a problem at all. We were just on our way out ourselves!"

"But Madame Leota—" Gus began to argue, but Phineas and Ezra instantly covered his mouth. "Was suggesting we leave ourselves. Just give us a minute to talk."

Phineas, Ezra, and Gus leapt into a huddle where Phineas explained his plan, "She can get us out of the mansion. I'm thinking that we get her out and leave this place forever."

"That's what I was thinking!" Ezra added. Gus intervened, "The Host will catch us again."

"There's nobody out there who will cause any problems. We go out, we'll be set." Phineas assured him. Gus hesitatingly asked, "What happens to her when we get out?"

"Who cares? We'll be rid of this place forever! We could go anywhere! The mortal world is our playground." Phineas broke the huddle, and all three looked to Lillian, "Follow us, and we'll both leave this place forever!"

"Where are we going to go?" Lillian asked. Phineas looked to his comrades and explained, "My friends and I know several places. We've left the mansion several times way back when. Since the maniac arrived, we've had some trouble with the increased security. But with your help, we'll have no problem! We could show you everything the world has to offer."

Lillian gladly went to follow him, but stopped in her tracks, and said, "Hold on, I know I'm not supposed to talk to strangers."

"She makes a very good point." Ezra and Gus nodded simultaneously. Ezra tapped on Phineas' shoulder and whispered so Lillian couldn't hear, "Hey, isn't this technically kidnapping?"

Phineas hissed back, "Who cares what it is if it gets us as far away from that devil woman as much as possible!"

He returned to his jolly façade then told Lillian, "Lillian, my dear, we just did a dance together, you know our names and you can just spray that canister in our faces if something goes wrong. Logistically."

"Logically." Ezra added.

"Lobotomy." Gus couldn't think of any words

Phineas snapped his fingers and Gus quickly lowered the curtains and a spotlight.

PHINEAS

I'll give you a hand!

Ezra pushed his hand forward.

EZRA

Or two!

Gus stood there and added,

GUS

Or a foot.

The other two pushed Gus away.

PHINEAS

I hope you understand

That's what we do

You've been all around the mansion

How about an expansion?

Huge cardboard props fell from above to set the stage as Gus dragged down a miniature Eiffel tower.

GUS

How about Paris?

EZRA

Pura iter est!

PHINEAS

It may spark your interest

That we're all obsessed

With traveling and seeing around

And guess…what we found?

We saw Peru!

The Eiffel tower went up and down came a giant mountain while Gus was dressed as a llama.

EZRA

How do you do?

PHINEAS

And the Louvre!

Gus raised the mountain and took an empty picture frame and tossed it to Ezra who took off his coat and put it on his head to imitate the Mona Lisa.

GUS

Sacre bleu!

PHINEAS

And Brazil!

Gus dropped a rain forest onto Ezra suddenly, breaking the picture frame.

EZRA

How'd it feel?

PHINEAS

Unreal.

It appealed

To even Gus!

GUS

Hey!

PHINEAS

Take it from us

The world can thrust

You under the bus

You never knew!

But how was Nepal?

A different mountain slid into the stage with snowy mountaintops.

EZRA

I was in awe

GUS

I swore I saw

The maw of a yeti!

Gus squealed when Ezra whipped out a tiny hand puppet of a white yeti, before laughing at his best friend.

PHINEAS

But do not fret!

In the halls of Tibet!

You'll see you're set!

But before then you get

As Gus heaved a giant temple on his back to set up Tibet, he immediately dropped it on the ground, so he could go get the next set piece in time.

PHINEAS

To Giza

A badly drawn yellow triangle was slapped onto the model of Everest, but Ezra was already preparing the next prop.

EZRA

And though it may leave you

Huffing and wheeza,

It's still a whole lot warmer than in Piza

He set down the Leaning Tower of Pizza while Gus caught his breath.

GUS

They once baked me into the other kind of pizza…

PHINEAS

You need to see the world!

Call us your travel heralds!

Sure, there's a little peril!

But there's nowhere quite as terrible!

As waiting and doing nothing!

Gus shoved all the other props and ghost's offstage and went into a very short solo with the snow and mountains behind him.

GUS

I hear Alaska

Is nice

Ezra barged in and added,

EZRA

Quite the task-a

If you're enticed!

GUS

Task-a isn't a word

Phineas put a temple right in front of Ezra's face to cover him up.

PHINEAS

Or maybe somewhere in Japan

They've more shrines

Than market stands

If you're wondering our plans.

Ezra ductaped the frame together and held it to themselves, pulling everyone into a picture.

EZRA

We were thinking maybe Spain

We could attain

A picture in a frame

With us all in it!

Gus finally cooperated, since only his massive eyebrows were visible based on the height of the frame.

GUS

I don't wanna try

Every time I close my eyes

And I get embarrassed.

PHINEAS

I didn't know he had eyes

That's kind of why

We didn't take you to

Timbuktu

"What?" Gus shouted in an outrage. He shouted again as Phineas and Ezra tried to dance, "Stop the music! What do you mean you didn't take me to Timbuktu? We're supposed to go together!"

Ezra stopped singing but continued the music awkwardly in the background, "I know but you're old and you slept in and didn't want to disturb you. It was Phineas' idea."

"Your chain is impossible to get through security. And it's kinda hard with your allergy sometimes." Phineas admitted to Gus. Gus flared up like a little angry dwarf, "I'm sorry my chain which is attached to my leg by a metal hoop, and my peanut allergy is such a burden! We're supposed to be a team!"

"I kinda thought we were more like family." Ezra argued. Phineas looked to him and asked, "That is the cheesiest stuff I have ever heard."

"I'm with Ezra on this, you are like the brothers I never had." Gus admitted, "That just makes this more angering!"

"You have a twin." Phineas reminded him.

"Yes, the brother I do have annoys me."

"And we don't annoy you?" Ezra was touched. Gus pointed out, "No, you two are so much worse. But I stay because you two don't leave me out in this thing! If it weren't for you, I'd still be rotting in a cell."

"Gus, we're sorry for not going with you. Tell ya what, when we take the kid and leave the mansion, we'll all go to Timbuktu. Deal?" Phineas asked, offering his hand to Gus. Gus sniffled, "I'd like that…"

The three went in for a group hug, and Gus added, "The trio lives together, dies together!"

"Through and through." Ezra agreed. They held the hug then Phineas realized, "Hey guys…?"

"Yeah?" the other two asked.

"Where's the kid?"

"…Aw nuts…"


	6. Chapter 5: The Phantom Menace

Lillian had become distracted by other things. While she appreciated the show, those three, who she presumed were siblings because there was no other logical reason they would give each other so much grief, were a little on the weird side. She didn't want to have to stop every five seconds to watch a show, she had work to do and people to see. This is how she bumped into the Ghost Host on her way out of the Mausoleum.

It was a sharp introduction followed by Lillian falling to the ground and the Host holding his ground. With the creepy noose around his neck and the deep voice, not to mention looking more corpselike than an actual corpse, the Host wasn't exactly great at cheerful introductions.

"Mortal, I have come to retrieve you, so Madame Leota can—" He was cut off by pepper spray being fizzled into his eyes. He let out a pained gasp and grit his teeth as he tried to recover. Lillian climbed to her feet and made a direct run towards the Mausoleum.

"Nice! Alright, show me the way." Lillian hopped excitedly, and Phineas gave an evil grin.

"Phineas!" Came a deep voice as the Host stepped into the mausoleum. He looked to Lillian, then to the Hitchhikers, connecting the dots. He repeated, louder, "Phineas Pock!"

" _Professor_ Phineas Pock Mr. Host!" Phineas replied, then turned to Lillian. "Let's get going."

"Who's he?"

"A very very persistent nuisance. Run!" Phineas and the company made a U-turn and hurried through the mausoleum. The host floated towards them like a rocket, curving an archway to step into their path. "Valued guest, I advise that you step away from them. Madame Leota and I will get you out of here safely do you—?"

Phineas took a carpet bag and smacked it across the Host's head. Ezra and Gus were caught off guard by this and gasped at it as they ran through the halls towards the exit of the attraction.

"You just hit the Host!" Ezra noted in surprise. The Host was getting tired of being interrupted and launched at them in a black spew of smoke. Phineas didn't say anything as they made it to the end of the mausoleum. The Host instantly blocked them and summoned a massive axe as a less than empty threat, "Phineas, Ezra, Gus, this is your final warning. Relinquish the guest so Madame Leota and I can take care of them properly or I will have to use deadly measures."

Phineas looked at him, then raised his finger in objection before making an abrupt turn and dragging Lillian and the others into another part of the graveyard. Phineas dove headfirst into the back of the hearse, followed by the others who either hung onto the back of the carriage, or jumped so far, they landed in the driver's seat, as was the case with Ezra, whose weight sent the hearse down a hill.

"He's catching up!" Gus shouted to the others from the back. Lillian was very uncomfortable and had very little room, especially since nobody had bothered to empty the hearse of the big black coffin beforehand.

The Host tried to follow behind reappearing beside tree after tree to reach the carriage, but Phineas grabbed Lillian's hand and pulled her inside.

"Gus, make sure she doesn't go anywhere!" Phineas instructed, to which Gus nodded and saluted. Phineas investigated the driver's seat, where Ezra was having trouble trying to control the hearse and was currently going unsettlingly fast through the graveyard while Ezra was hit by every tree in the Mansion.

"Would it be so difficult for you to try to control this thing?" Phineas asked, as Ezra's head went spinning. Phineas grabbed the skull and held it steady to face him, while Ezra explained, "Phineas, I like many things. Tormenting you and Gus is one of them. Torture is how I show I care. I do not like fast things! They make me—Ulp!"

Phineas quickly turned the head to the other side while Ezra code v-ed his rib cage and bones out in the perfect manner where he reformed upside down. Phineas went back through into the back of the hearse and saw the Host had long since been outrun by the horseless deathtrap. Phineas and Gus exchanged a mutual high five as they made a hazardous turn around the corner, passing the greenhouse.

The coffin went flying from the hearse and launched into the greenhouse, causing a massive crash that caught the attention of the entire mansion. The paintings in the hall noticed it, I noticed it, Hatbox, from the infirmary, noticed it, and worst of all, Constance slowly watched from the window.

Phineas breathed a sigh of relief, then looked to Gus, who thought aloud, "I have made a huge mistake."

Phineas looked to Gus, then around the Hearse, "Gus, where is Lillian?"

"…Oh. Kids."

"You put her in the coffin that just launched into the greenhouse, didn't you?"

"Nobody gave me instructions for this parent thing! Oh! Here's a tiny squirmy thing! Oh, it's so cute! Good luck! Whee!"

"…I'm going to kill you. You're already dead so I don't know how. But I will find a way."

Meanwhile the coffin bounced from the bushes into the greenhouse, smashing inside and landing smack dab in the middle of a bunch of orange flowers and wreaths. Inside, Lillian wanted to get off now. She had grown sick of this place, of being hunted, of the monsters, and being put in a coffin. A coffin which Gus, being the genius that he was, had nailed shut! Lillian pushed up at the lid, "Help! Someone! Let me out of here! Help!"

The coffin was dark, and the hallways were silent. Lillian for the first time in a long time, began to cry out for her family, "Mom! I want to go home!"

Unfortunately, these screams had caught someone's attention. She saw a glowing approaching her coffin. Lillian tried to hold her breath, but she soon began to hyperventilate as the light got closer and closer until her vision began to blur. The blurring intensified until the grunt of someone opening the coffin helped her out.

A young woman in a red dress opened the coffin for her. She wasn't like the other ghosts, she seemed bright and cheery, like she was the most alive out of anyone, including Lillian. "Oh my gosh! Are you alright?"

"I was just thrown through a window by a runaway hearse in a coffin. My family is probably worried sick, I'm trapped here, and I don't know what to do." Lillian began to go on a tangent as she tried to get up out of the coffin. The woman held her arm and helped her out. Her skin was warm and comforting, like a hot drink on a winter day.

"Shh…It's ok. It's ok. How about we sit down and talk about it?" the woman asked, motioning her hands for Lillian to calm down. "I know this great spot in the library. Nobody ever goes there."

Lillian was a little hesitant, but she looked back at the rest of the house, which was dark and menacing, and felt like it was watching her. She reluctantly agreed, "Ok…"

"What's your name?" the woman asked with a warm smile. Lillian felt obligated to answer, "Lillian."

"Nice to meet you Lillian, I'm Sally. Sally Slater." The woman told her and offered her hand like a lady, curtseying beforehand. Lillian begrudgingly took the hand and shook, only to be dragged into an unnecessary hug. Sally was warm and smelled oddly of roses.

She released Lillian and immediately apologized, "Sorry. I'm a hugger. Is that alright with you?"

"I've had much worse things happen to me today." Lillian assured her. Sally continued down the hall and apologized again, "Oh I'm so sorry! Don't worry! It's nothing a little cocoa won't fix."

Sally went down the hall, then stopped to look back at Lillian, "You don't mind cocoa, do you?"

"No." Lillian just wanted to rest. Sally nodded then smiled. She took a candle from the wall and carried the wax candle bare and carried it in one hand, holding it up so Lillian could see their way. There was something uncomfortably familiar about this practice.

Sally turned a corner and went upstairs. Lillian kept watching her as they walked, but soon noticed other changes happening whenever Sally walked through the mansion. All the paintings were empty, only showing the background. The wallpaper no longer watched her with eerie eyes. Instead, like a child watching a scary movie, it had closed its eyes, and the wind made it appear to be shivering in fear.

Lillian eventually reached for one of the patterns as it shivered on the wallpaper. The pipes began to whimper in fear as Lillian put her hand closer.

"Oh, that old tapestry? Don't worry, I've got it." Sally smiled that blood red smile of her and bent the candle onto the wallpaper. The pattern whimpered then the pipes must have burst, because Lillian could have sworn she heard screaming as the pattern tried to escape as the flame burned through it into the drywall, leaving nothing but ashes.

Sally refrained from stabbing it with the flame, but instead stayed completely calm as the flame spread to the other patterns and eventually reached towards Sally. She took a quick puff and blew out the flame in one go before feeling the ashes and rubbing it between her finger tips. She chuckled, "See, nothing to worry about. Come on, we're almost there."

Lillian had a very active imagination and did her best to deduce the reality of this situation. She watched as Sally entered a far door, then she turned back around to see all the paintings overtaken by none other than the devilish grin of Hatbox. The paintings soon overcame the walls, and Hatbox's ever-present eyes pushed Lillian further and further back, into the waiting jaws of his accomplice.


	7. Chapter 6: Tomb sweet Tomb

The room Sally had led her into, but Lillian had a strong feeling that this was not Sally, was brightly colored, and looked unsettlingly well kept. The bright blue walls of the house were perfectly cleaned, and the kitchen was in perfect condition. Lillian's mother was wiping down the counters with a paper towel. Much like the rest of Lillian's kitchen, her clothes were spotless, and the paper tower had not a speck of dust on it.

Lillian looked back through the doorframe she just came from to see the hallway from her house, down to the white framing. But, everything was clean. It was perfect, and Lillian began to feel very uncomfortable. Her mother set down a cup of cocoa for Lillian on a kosher for her. She smiled to her, with that same pure red smile that Sally had.

"Sit down, your father will be here soon." Her mother encouraged, moving gracefully to the other side of the table to drink her own cocoa. "You slept like the dead. You feel ok?"

"I'm a little…uneasy." Lillian answered honestly. Her mother reached her hand to feel Lillian's forehead and affirmed it, "You're a little warm. You must have a fever. The cocoa will help, but you should really get some rest. Maybe we should all settle down and watch some TV?"

"I just need to lie down for a bit." Lillian assured her. She didn't doubt for a minute this was a trick. She watched the tile floor below, and noticed more details start to emerge. More and more scratches from years of living began to emerge. The illusion was getting more precise, and as it did, Lillian had a feeling this psycho was breaking down her defenses. She took a sip of cocoa. It was well made, perfected.

Of course.

The door opened to the far side, and Lillian's father came in with a crick in his back and a suitcase. He set the suitcase down and looked to Lillian. "Hey sport! How are you?"

"Why are you wincing?" Lillian instantly asked, trying to fight back against the illusion.

"Oh, just a little back pain boo." He assured her. Only her father could call her that. Not this imposter. Not this lie.

"I'm going to go lie down." Lillian concluded, walking down the hall and back to her bed. It wasn't long though before she landed back on the bed and collapsed. Her father looked to her mother. The mother gave an obvious expression for her father to go help her, and the father reluctantly listened, and went down the hall to his daughter.

He sat down beside her bed. Lillian's room was closed off, and the blinds were closed from the world, by her own choice. The room itself was plastered with old posters that didn't mean anything anymore, and toys that had gone years without play. Lillian had tossed her covers up over her head.

"Lillian, do you want to talk about something?" her father asked, putting his hand on her back. She groaned, "Go away."

"My mother and I are so sorry. We didn't mean for it to happen, and we were in such a rush that—"

"You left me." Lillian groaned. Her father tried to apologize again, "And we are so sorry. As soon as we found out what happened, we called the park and the custodians picked you up."

"You left me! You left me and you're making excuses!" Lillian shouted, holding her pillow tightly.

"We thought that you would meet us at Splash Mountain to see the fireworks. When we gave you stuff for your headache, we didn't really think through how quickly you'd fall asleep. We spent hours looking for you, we swear."

"But you didn't, did you?"

"The custodial crew found you at three and called park authorities."

"But you didn't. You weren't there. You or mom. Nothing moved, the lights were off, and everything was dark. I hated the cold, and I hate you. Leave me alone."

Her father, having trouble reaching to the sick girl, backed away and talked to her mother. Lillian's mother came in and sat down. "Sweetie, I want to talk."

"I don't." Lillian corrected.

"Yes, I think you do. If you need anything, just tell me, ok? Lillian?" Her mother heard the faint sound of snoring. Man, that girl could go out in a matter of seconds.

Lillian's dream had her laying in a coffin, covered in orange flowers. Her bed was glowing blue. She didn't understand it, it felt like she was falling. She reached up to the ceiling, which hadn't changed, unlike the walls. Along the walls, were portraits of her family members, sobbing around her. Lillian tried to speak, but they couldn't hear her calling to them.

She reached out, and realized it wasn't her bed that was glowing, but her. Her arm was a bright blue color, and deathly cold. She looked over her arms and soon realized her bed was lowering down into the ground. Atop her head was a tombstone that read, "Here lies little Lillian, her mind was lost to oblivion."

The ceiling above her remained unchanged until Lillian tried to get up out of the coffin and the sound of thunder rang out. Her ceiling vanished, revealing the hanging corpse of herself up above. Lighting struck again, and the corpse fell towards the coffin. She woke up before she could scream.

Lillian was in her bed. Her mother was sleeping on the chair beside her bed. Lillian looked up at her, seeing how she had stayed through all night. She considered offering a blanket, but she childishly rolled over and went back to sleep. The morning afterwards, she awoke to eating sausage and syrup. The sausages had been made by her father, while the syrup had been sneaked.

"How are you feeling?" Her father asked, taking a sip of cocoa. He had made one for Lillian as well, but she didn't really care for it just yet.

"I've been having weird dreams lately." Lillian admitted, going on the offensive.

"What kind of dreams?"

"I dreamed I beat up a corpse with a shovel and stabbed it in his back."

Lillian took a sip of her cocoa, "You wouldn't know anything about that, would you?"

"Not especially," Her father said calmly, "What do you think it means?"

"That you and mom are both liars, and that I'm going to turn whoever is pulling my chains into a ground up mush."

"I always thought that dreams were an expression of how we're feeling, our doubts, our fear."

"Are you afraid?"

Her father hesitated, "Your mother was up all night and is probably tired, so…it's normal to be a little afraid."

"She's not my mother."

"Don't say that! Lillian, how dare you!"

"You aren't my father."

"Lillian!"

Lillian gave a psychotic chuckle, then shook her head, "You left me, but when I came back, it wasn't you. You're not them."

"Lillian, you were scared, and it was dark, how about I get your medication?" Her father began to scramble through the drawer for a small vial. Lillian stood up from her seat and walked towards him slowly, pacing and smiling all the way in long strides. She held up a small needle and looked the imposter over.

"You aren't my father. Where is he, and where is my mother?"

"Lillian, your mother is in the other room, please calm down, put down the knife boo." Her father instructed. Lillian chuckled, her smiled turning upwards into that familiar blood red smile. "Everyone lies. The only thing honest in this world is fear. Nobody can lie about fear. We're all afraid of something."

"Lillian!" Her father caught her arm as Lillian went to plant the needle in him. Lillian pushed harder, but hardly showed any expression but that creepy smile. "Are you afraid right now?"

"Lillian, boo, I need you to calm down, I'm going to call the police."

"The police won't help. Who would believe a miserable old stooge like you? I'm young, innocent…" Lillian's voice was not her own. It echoed like a nightmare, "…harmless."

Constance Hatchaway grabbed the rose vase off the counter and smashed it against his head. She stood over his twitching body when the mother came in. No, she wasn't anyone's mother. She was a liar, like the rest. She lied about loving people. She lied about caring.

So, Constance would lie about who killed them. She turned to the furnace and lit it with candle, dragging the tabletops and wood along the house. She carried the candle with a smile, helping the house catch ablaze. She stepped out the door and tossed the candle back inside as the house burned.

Constance walked in monotonous strides, smiling all the way. It eventually opened into a toothy grin as Constance looked while the old ghetto was burned and passed on to the other buildings in the village. This miserable little town would die with them. Constance walked down and quickly took a panicked expression, calling out for help, "Please! Help! Please!"

Help came quickly, and in clusters. The masses were idiots. Constance sat down and covered herself with a black veil to cover her smile. She took out a rose and set it down for the ones lost in the 'accident'. In the reflection of the flower, she saw Lillian, and Lillian saw her.

Lillian reached out for the rose from the reflection and held it in her hand. The nightmares she just saw was horrific. Constance clearly wanted to tell her something, incite her to do something, something Constance had done herself.

"Families are a lie," Sally told her, but Lillian knew who it was, "Love is a lie. When people need you most, they're going to whine for your attention. When you need them, they're far away getting off on thin fumes."

Sally's 'library' was a room filled with burn marks and broken rafters.

"You killed them." Lillian stood overlooking the burned remains of a house very similar to her own.

"No. You did. You were in complete control of what just happened."

"You are a liar."

"See? That's a word you came up with for the situation. Something you've noticed perhaps? Your parents abandoned you here, so they lied about caring about you, that trio of excess bones did nothing but lie to everyone. I love the spin on a classic tale." Constance waggled her finger at Lillian.

"I would never do anything to hurt anyone, and my family loves me." Lillian wanted to dive headfirst at the bride and tear her apart.

"See, now why don't I believe you? Maybe because your first instinct is to attack me, rather than mourn the loss of your innocence?" Constance put a finer to her lip and thought, then turned back to Lillian, "Hm. How about we do some trust exercises, you and me? Now that we both know we're all horrible people?"

"I don't want to go anywhere near you. I'm not like you."

"I never said you were. I said we're all horrible people. You're just as insignificant as everyone else. But, suddenly, in this little house where your life means something, you think you're the protagonist of this story?" Constance approached her and tilted her head, "You do, don't you?"

She covered her mouth as she laughed, then sighed. "You are nothing. Nobody wants to hear about your miserable stupid life, you pathetic little girl."

Lillian made a dive for the bride. Constance caught the oncoming attack, then grabbed Lillian by the hair and slapped her across the face. "You bore me."

"We aren't done yet!" Lillian tried to take a fighting stance. Constance began to walk away, "I appreciate your effort, but…you aren't worth the fight. I've seen inside your head. You don't have potential. But if you need help hanging yourself, I'll get you the rope."

"I hate you!"

"I'd like to say the feeling's mutual, but your parents abandoned you because you're a worthless empty shell, and your friends just want to use you to escape. I have no need for you, even hatred. If you died, it would be an improvement." Constance walked out the door and closed it behind her. She looked back at Lillian and smiled, then blew a kiss, effectively slapping Lillian in the face before she left.

Lillian watched the door close, and she ran to go open it, but it was instantly locked in the burned room. She sat down and held her knees, trying to understand what just happened.

Constance, on the other hand, thought she was done. She had seen the mortal, found out if she could be useful and deduced that she was nothing but garbage. She took out a small powdered makeup and cleaned herself up a bit, using the opportunity to investigate the mirror at Hatbox standing behind her. "I knew you'd come back."

"You tortured her, then tossed her away." Hatbox snarled like an old dog. Constance hummed in response, approving the notion, "And you got beat up. Would your method have improved the situation?"

"No, I'm underwhelmed. When I was here before, you were a nightmare. You were cutting up mortals left and right and setting them ablaze. Now you're just here bullying school girls."

Constance closed her eyes, then closed the makeup. She turned around to Hatbox and asked, "Do you remember the first time we met?"

"I'm very old. Forgive me if I try to get rid of bad memories." Hatbox barked, grumbling to himself. Constance walked towards him and Hatbox instinctively backed away, but eventually Constance made it on the outskirts of his person. "No. You do remember. And don't insult my craft Boxy, it was a good memory. Human beings are easily manipulatable."

She bent down on one knee to his level and grabbed his chin. "See, the trick is to tell them things they already believe. Make them think that you are the only person who cares and understands. Then they can't stop thinking about it. Can't free their minds of it. That's what you did, wasn't it?"

"Get back, now I say!" Hatbox raised his walking stick like a sword and kept Constance at a distance.

"You love me. And you hate me. But that's the wonderful part. Even when I killed you, you still loved me. Why do you think that is?"

"I have no attraction to a psychopath like you! I left you far behind me and let you burn with all the other memories." Hatbox spat and twitched like an angered mongoose. While Hatbox moved like an animal, Constance moved supernaturally, and often unsettlingly surreal.

"I think, that love will make you do anything, and no matter what, I'll still be in your head, eating you up, draining your life away and you know it. I don't have to tell you what you are. You know what you are, and so did that child. The only difference?"

Constance lightly pushed away the cane then put her hand on Hatbox's face, "You've done too much to walk away now."

Constance made an almost unnoticeable throw at Hatbox's feet. His cloak was nailed to the floor with an axe. Hatbox looked down and began to pull it free, then looked back at Constance, who had vanished with ease.

Hatbox had a saddened expression and turned around to the door, trying to peer inside at Lillian. He ended up getting his cloak stuck on the axe below. He gave it a few hefty tugs and eventually tore it trying to get it free, making a loud ripping sound. Lillian, from her room, opened her eyes at the noise but didn't bother getting up from her fetal position.


	8. Chapter 7: The Grave of Thrones

Hatbox approached the door and delicately opened it a crack. He stepped into the room and stared at her. His saddened expression faded, and it turned back to his grumbling self. "Look at you, whining! When I was your age, I would have smacked that wench upside the head and given her what for!"

Lillian continued to lay idle like a rock. Hatbox scowled and took out his walking stick and turned her over to look at him. "Come on, you sad little sandbag, get up! Can't lay on the floor all day feeling sorry for yourself."

Lillian covered her face and tried to turn back around but Hatbox held her in place with his cane, "Now you listen up! See this?"

He pointed to his cane and explained, "This is the stick of reality."

He bopped her on the head. "Face the stick of reality! If you don't get up now, you'll never get up, and I don't want ghost number 1000 dying from being a miserable potato. How is that the least bit amusing?"

"You are a horrible person." Lillian groaned. Hatbox squinted at her and said, "You have no idea, now get up!"

Lillian rolled over despite him, and Hatbox growled before putting his hands on his hips. He rubbed his chin, then chose to leave the room because Lillian was an: "…unreasonable slab of flesh."

Hatbox left the room and tried to think of what to do next. He had to make sure Constance pay for what she said to him. Clearly, there had to be something he could do. He needed manpower, and cheap manpower at that. He wandered over to the window which looked out over the river, where the Hitchhiking Ghosts were arguing near a crashed hearse.

Hatbox gave a wicked grin, revealing that old gold tooth of his. His opportunity had arrived. Specifically, the conversation Phineas, Ezra, and Gus were having concerned their recent loss.

"Keep looking! That mortal must have flown somewhere!" Phineas shouted, looking through the bushes. Ezra took off his head and put a candle into it like a jack-o-lantern before using it to illuminate his way. While pushing through a haybale, he eventually found something, "Hey! I think I found her!"

"Let go of me!" Gus shouted as he was picked up, his giant beard blending into the haybale.

"That mortal is nowhere to be found!" Phineas shouted, emptying a dead flower pot and tossing it next to the hearse.

"Her name's Lillian." Gus reminded him as Ezra put him down and replaced his own head.

"Wherever Jillian is, I'm gonna find her and get us all out of this dump!" Phineas shouted at him. Ezra held his arms defensively, "Phineas, buddy, calm down."

"I'm not calming down Ezra, I'm stressed out! The only chance we have at escaping this dump is gone! Gone I tell you!" Phineas didn't notice Hatbox appearing behind him.

"And if the Host or any other one of those chumps get in my way, I'll give them what for! Like a true magician, I'll make them disappear!" Phineas began to rant to Ezra and Gus, who noticed Hatbox and were now hugging each other in fear as Hatbox looked over Phineas with a sinister look, his hands outstretched ready to pluck him away.

"Is that right Professor?" Hatbox asked, pinching Phineas' back and lifting him up and letting him dangle in the other hand.

"Hatbox! I didn't know you were back!" Phineas chuckled and smiled nervously. Hatbox gave a smug look, "I didn't know you were so feisty, pauper."

"Hey old timer!" Ezra stepped forward in a boxing position, with Gus taking up the rear, as Ezra stated "Put my friend down and I don't make your head disappear from your shoulders permanently!"

"You're outnumbered!" Gus shouted, dragging his ball and chain like a mace. Hatbox chuckled. He had a very simple approach to things. When he felt he was in control, he was bemused, but when he was very angered, he was very grumpy.

"I don't want to squabble with you peasants any longer than necessary. I'm here to make a bargain." Hatbox dropped Phineas, who shuffled over to the protection of his friends. Hatbox explained, "As I recall, you need a mortal to leave the mansion grounds, and I happen to have one in my care."

"If you hurt her…" Gus prepared to make the first lunge, and Ezra also stirred, while Phineas was more concerned for his own well-being.

"I have not. But I'd like to eliminate a common enemy of the mansion. Up in my attic, Constance has been making trouble for everyone."

"You mean her attic?" Ezra asked.

"My attic."

"No, she lives there."

"My attic!" Hatbox grumbled, "I used to be the star of that old attic before I left."

"But she's lived there all this time and actually put effort into it." Phineas pointed out, much more comfortable now that he had allies.

"Well it's mine and I'm going to take it back."

"But she lives there."

"And it belongs to me."

"You can't just take it from her!"

"I can! And Will! You're going to help me, or I'll kick you out of your mausoleum!" Hatbox roared, now fully tired of these nagging weaklings. "Now…I want you to do, as Phineas said, make her disappear?"

"And in exchange, we get back Jillian?" Ezra asked, Gus corrected, "Lillian."

"Congratulations, you have the mental skill of a monkey. Do that for me, and you will have that flesh bag." Hatbox explained, as the Hitchhikers exchanged looks. They huddled together, and all agreed, "He is definitely not trustworthy."

"But everyone needs to get rid of Constance anyway. Nobody has the courage to do it." Gus pointed out. Ezra reminded him, "Because everyone can make good decisions."

"I don't want to go in there. Not again." Phineas covered his face with his hat and sounded like he was about to cry. The attic struck a nerve with Phineas.

"Phineas, it's the only way we can save Lillian, and get out of this dump for good." Ezra did his best to try and be supportive while Phineas was incapacitated. "If you ever get scared, or if something happens, me and Gus will be right there."

"She won't get close to you while we're on watch. That's a hitch hike's guarantee!" Gus tried to be cool, and the two hugged Phineas, while Ezra assured Phineas, "It'll be ok. Just stay close."

"Ok." Phineas nodded, remembering what happened the last time the three tried to go up in the attic.

The ghosts turned around to Hatbox and nodded. Phineas took back his sneering smile and said, "Ok Boxy! We'll take it."

"Wonderful. I'll be watching." Hatbox tipped his hat then vanished in a blue swirl of mist.

Elsewhere, the Host was headed upstairs and looking through the attic. He was certain that Constance had heard the massive crash. Having already investigated the halls, and not found the mortal, he had a feeling that she was in the one place he hoped she wasn't.

The attic was a dimly lit shabby place with visible rafters. Shelves and clutter blocked off his vision as he stepped through into the room. The Host reluctantly called out to Constance, hoping he'd find her before she found him, but it was increasingly unlikely, "Constance Hatchway!"

He heard a crackled beneath his feet and looked down. A long dead orange flower was on the ground beneath his feet, a trail of them leading around the corner. The Host started talking to avoid being caught off guard. "I know what you're doing Constance, and it's not going to succeed. Your psychotic practices are not going to trick me."

The piano in the corner began to play a delicate tune. One that Constance herself was a fan of. From my own recollection, it goes a little like this.

Here with me…

Only me…

Now you see…

There's only me…

Hypocritically, he followed the trail of flowers around the corner. A massive bouquet was laid before a portrait of Constance with a young man. Around them were other photos of them together, living happily. The photos soon began to change though when the Host spotted the hatbox set below the portrait. The man began to appear mutilated and chopped up, and Constance turned from sweet to sadistic in the blink of an eye.

Please don't flee

I won't let you be

Only me

You won't be free

The Host saw the man's head disappear from his neck in the portrait. Given the hatbox, he could only make guesses where the body was stuffed. He turned back around to see another portrait, the endless silence creeping up as the Host began inhale and exhale in the cold. This portrait was also happy until it turned grim as giggling came from behind the painting.

Let it go

So, you know

All you tow

Are songs of woe

"This isn't amusing." The Host corrected, stepping towards the portrait. This was followed by the smell of decay leading him to another portrait, and more and more portraits, each one worse than the last. Each one had a hatbox below until finally he turned around and saw a new painting. In it was Constance with her bouquet, and an axe tucked away. The painting smiled as the axe became more prominent and twinkled at him.

Nowhere to go

You're scared and so

You'll cry out no

Because you know

"I am not a mortal Constance, you don't frighten me." The Host said, as his deep voice began to fail him. He turned around to make sure he wasn't being followed when he began to hear a heartbeat, pounding in the silence. He stepped forward to see a portrait of himself. The portrait was interrupted by two hands in the background reaching up to grab him before the Host's head vanished within the painting.

There's only me

You and me

In this great empty

The Host realized his mistake and looked back at the portrait of Constance, now seeing that Constance had vanished from the painting completely. He backed up, taking a defensive position as he prepared for what happened next.

Don't you hide

I'm inside

Though you tried

You've already died

Don't you believe

You'll receive

Ecstasy

With only me

You are fast

But you can't get past

They never last

When their hand is cast

Only me

Can see its futility

Why won't you be

As free as me

You'll be free

But only

If you stay

With only…me.

Two freezing hands came up from behind him in the darkness and held his face and neck, lightly pulling him back until he felt her heartbeat on his back, and her breath down his neck. She whispered in his ear with an unsettling tone, "Hold. Still."

The Host was terrified as he felt the scrape something sharp moved across his shoulder towards his neck. Constance removed her hand from his face to show him what it was and release him. A thorn covered rose was there for him. Suddenly, the room didn't seem so dark, and the smell of decay was replaced with the smell of chocolate, but most of all, Constance's psychotic embrace felt warm.

"Better?" she asked. She let the Host go, but he was still trying to understand what just happened. Constance walked around him and gave him a friendly smile, then a look of worry. "Oh! Sorry! Did I spook you?"

"Um…" every time he went up here with a butler or maid, he hadn't met her or seen her. That was for safety measures that clearly that imbecile instantly forgot about due to emotion association.

It is something I have experienced when I was alive. Humanity, dead or alive, tends to improperly associate increased adrenaline from terror or instinctual self-preservation to infatuation. The Host was a little in shock. Constance assured him, "Don't worry, come sit down, I won't bite."

She walked over to a set of armchairs beside a bookcase that wasn't there before. The Host, not wanting to be impolite, decided to go sit down across from her. Constance cheered as she set down two mugs of hot chocolate, "I made cocoa!"

"That's wonderful…you're Constance?" The Host asked to the woman who seemed much more alive than anyone else in the mansion.

"Yes." Constance affirmed. The Host looked at one of the portraits, which had returned to the less terrifying, head wearing counterpart.

"Oh! That was my husband." Constance explained, "Don't worry, he's not gonna barge in any time soon."

"Why do you say that?"

"He died before I did. He still had someone who loved him as he died, so he's not a member of the Mansion." Constance explained. The Host noted, "You seem very comfortable with talking about his death."

"You're awfully comfortable talking about yours." Constance noted. The Host seemed startled by the remark, but Constance reassured him, "I sleep next to the observatory and hear you talk to the guests. Can't say it sounds very easy for you."

"I don't think about it. I've been doing the same routine for half a century, my own death bores me sometimes."

"You're bored? I would have thought being the Host would be amazing! Seeing the mansion! Talking to people from everywhere!"

"It's alright. I'm just bored of it."

"If you wanna trade spots, I'd be happy to. Waiting here all day with the paintings judging you is really creepy." She let out a bubbly laugh and said, "I'm like a princess waiting in a far-off tower!"

She laughed again. The Host cleared his throat and told her, "Well Hatbox recently made his triumphant return, flailed his arms about in the ballroom and complained about change."

"The old coot is still at it. After all these years you'd think he'd learn to be a little more understanding." Constance took a sip of her cocoa.

"You two don't like each other?" The Host asked, "I thought you were a pair."

"Long ago maybe. He was going to marry me when I owned the mansion. My first good relationship in a long time, but…we fell back on bad habits. He left before the wedding."

"I'm sorry."

"Now I'm going to have to listen to him again from the other side."

The Host considered something, "What about if we don't put him in the attic, what if he stays in the spare room just outside the attic?"

"Can you do that? Is that allowed?" Constance asked. The Host took a sip of his hot chocolate then answered, "Yes, I can. I am in good favor with Leota. I'm sure we can reach a suitable conclusion."

"Oh! Thank you so much! You are amazing!" Constance stood up and hugged him. She smelled of chocolate and roses. She cleared her throat and released him before saying, "Sorry. I don't get much company."

"It's ok." The Host reassured her, a little anxious. Constance smiled at him warmly then held her mouth and laughed a little.

"What is it?"

The Host looked to his face where a smudge of chocolate was neatly positioned as a mustache. He frowned and began to try to wipe it off when Constance reached and took it off with a handkerchief. "Don't worry, it happens all the time. I like to walk around and pretend I'm the Dreamer."

"Hard at work I see." The Host gave a sarcastic look. Constance stuck her tongue out at him, and waggled her eyebrows, "I'm an untrained professional."

The two stared at one another before the Host realized, "Ah yes! I was here to ask you about something."

"What is it?"

"A mortal has been spotted on the grounds after visiting hours. I've been trying to get her to Leota, so she doesn't put herself in danger." The Host explained. Constance pretended to think for a second. "I don't know where she is, but I did hear a big crash over by the portrait hall. Maybe Gracey Jr. and the others ran into her?"

"Good thinking." The Host reasoned, "If you spot her, please let me or Madame Leota know."

"Of course! You'll ask Leota about putting Boxy somewhere where he doesn't harass me?"

"I'll see what I can do."

"Thank you so much, hurry back ok?" Constance quickly hugged him lightly then let go, then came back and hugged him again, "Ok bye!"

The Host stood idly there for a moment while Constance ran back behind a corner, then came back and got her cocoa with a nervous chuckle before vanishing from view. He chuckled, expecting to be torn to pieces, having completely forgotten about the first introduction. He left to go down to the portrait hall and ask Master Gracey and the others about their guest.


	9. Chapter 8: Who's a Head?

Constance on the other hand smiled a very different smile, the unsettling smile she showed to Lillian. The smile that meant she was now in control. This smile turned to a confused frown when she saw a tapping at the window. A raven was perched outside, trying to get in. She took a breath and summoned her axe. With a wild look she opened the window and prepared to hack the bird in two.

Thankfully for the raven, it flew up over Constance's head and stunned her. As Constance recovered, she looked back around with the hatchet in hand. The obnoxious thing would be turned into drumsticks. This distraction was enough for a robotic claw bought at a toy store to try to pull her out the window, with little success. Nonetheless, Constance grabbed the claw and went to see what was causing her so much trouble.

Down below her window was Gus standing on Phineas' shoulders. Gus gave a nervous look and Constance snapped the claw in two with her bare hands. "Ah, Professor and the dwarf. What brings you to my kindly little section of the mansion?"

"We aren't telling you anything!" Phineas shouted. Gus admitted, "Hatbox asked us to capture you."

"He did?"

"Gus! Why did you tell her that?" Phineas shouted. Gus reminded the traveler, "When a nutcase with an axe asks you a question, you answer them! It's called self-preservation!"

"Good little fool." Constance gave a smug look, then wild eyes as she raised the axe to take off Gus's head. Gus's eyes appeared out of the forest of his eyebrows and he tilted back to avoid what happened next. The two hitchhikers wobbled for a bit as they tried to keep stable. Constance chuckled, then tossed away her axe. She leaned out the window and gave an evil look to Gus. She extended two fingers forward and pushed his forehead, "Boop."

The two ghosts fell back and landed on top of one another. Constance laughed a little at their suffering, "Love the attempt, but the landing needs work."

She paused and counted them, "Aren't there three of you? Where's the tall one?"

At that second, Ezra charged at the maniac and pushed her out the window, forcing out a panicked scream. Constance fell a while before catching onto a tree branch with one hand. Gus and Phineas looked up at the dressed woman dangling above them, and Phineas immediately socked Gus in the shoulder, then shook his head and gave him a shameful look.

Ezra took out a fishing rod with a small raven on the line and began to flap it around Constance's face, trying to annoy her until she let go. Constance sputtered as the nuisance was waved around her face, not noticing Gus and Phineas down below preparing a coffin to trap her in when she landed.

Constance snarled in anger and grabbed the raven. She slowly turned towards Ezra and stared through him. Her anger turned to her creepy smile and she crushed the raven, signifying what she planned to do to that skeleton's head when she got a hold of him. Ezra dropped the fishing rod and held his neck in fear as the bride swung back to the windowsill, giving him a nice unsettling look that meant an unhealthy amount of homicide.

Gus and Phineas panicked and began to try to climb the tree, while Phineas shouted, "Run. Ezra! Run!"

"Ezra, huh?" Constance asked, summoning her hatchet. Ezra chuckled and tipped his hat, "You know it's been lovely to meet you Ms. Hatchaway but I really think I should skedaddle."

"Oh. No. Stay a while." Constance stepped onto the floor as Ezra backed away, and the doors and windows closed, blocking off the exits. Ezra began to pull out every trick in the book, "Hey, did you know you can't kill me? Cool huh? So, might as well let me go…haha!"

Constance continued her delicate walking towards Ezra and nodded, "I know. I used to take people like you up here. Charlatans…proposers…"

Ezra turned around to run but a portrait of himself blocked off his path, showing him with an axe splitting apart his skull.

"…Idiots. And want to know what I found out?" Constance asked as Ezra turned back to her and backed up against the wall. "We can feel pain, meaning I could toss you in a furnace forever, and you'd spend all of eternity in everlasting agony. Or I could just cover you in meat and let the vultures eat you out for eternity. Or…my personal favorite?"

She stood right in front of him and grabbed him by the neck. "I could chop you into itty bitty pieces and use your head as a paperweight!"

"Let's talk about…this…" Ezra began to struggle to breathe as Constance tightened her grip and chuckled. She shook her head and kindly asked, "Hold still."

Phineas and Gus were almost to the roof when the window reopened, and a body was thrown out the window. "Ezra!"

They skid off the roof and landed on their backs and side, but quickly crawled over to help Ezra. Or rather, his body, which was severely lacking a head. Constance whistled from the window, and laughed at them, "Say hi Ezra!"

She held up a hatbox and rattled it, making it bump and tumble. Phineas and Gus looked up at her but before they could lash out, Constance already proposed something. "He doesn't seem much for conversation. Ah well. Now you two, I have a strong feeling you'll be wanting this back soon, so I want to make a deal with you."

"You release him this instant!" Gus demanded, shaking his fist at her. Phineas was too scared to do anything, having already had his own experience with the bride. Constance looked to the hatbox and frowned, "I'll consider it, but then again, he did push me out a window. He wasn't very smart, was he? You won't make the same mistake will you Phineas?"

She gave him a very familiar demeaning look. Phineas whimpered and covered his head with his hat, looking away. Gus looked between the two, then spoke up, "Now listen you! You're going to give us our friend back or we'll—"

"You'll come up here and try again. Maybe if I'm lucky you'll both come, and I can get the full set." Constance dangled the hatbox between her thumb and index finger then looked down at the other two, "But…you can get it back. For a few things."

"I won't do nothing!" Gus shouted to her. Phineas caved and moved in front of Gus and asked, "What do you want?"

"Well, it's quite easy really. I want you to find a butler or maid and bring her to me." Constance asked. Gus tried to object, "You want us to kidnap a butler or a maid? What do you want with them?"

"We'll do it." Phineas bowed his head, "We'll get them."

"Excellent. See? That's not so hard is it? Now go." Constance closed the window and took Ezra's head with her. Gus looked to Phineas and asked, "You won't cave in to that devil woman, will you?"

Phineas sat down against the tree, "I don't know, Gus. I knew this was a bad idea."

"And how will we find the mortal?"

"I don't know Gus."

"What about getting Ezra back?"

"I don't know Gus!" Phineas shouted and grabbed his head. Gus stood up and said, "We should tell Leota and the Host. They can fix this."

"No." Phineas grunted.

"But they have magic and flying, and they know what they're doing."

"I said no, Gus! Leota hates us. She thinks we're garbage."

"No, she doesn't. She's just worried about us, all of us. She cares about everyone in the mansion."

"Not us. Not me."

"Phineas, you're just a part of this place as anyone. We're the trio! We're the hitchhiking ghosts, mad geniuses with mad schemes!"

"I'm not a genius Gus."

"Yes, you are."

Phineas got up in a rage. "I got my degree from a fluke Gus! I'm no genius! I didn't earn it! I didn't earn any of it! I'm nothing!"

"Phineas…me and Ezra think you're amazing. Remember that bit where you tried to use the Lost and Found to leave the mansion disguised as a mortal? Brilliant!"

"But it failed Gus! They all fail! They're failures! Like me." Phineas shouted, then cowered. "Leave."

"Phineas I'm here for you."

"Stop it! I can't get a moment's peace with you and Ezra on my necks all the time! No wonder I'm a failure! It's all because I have you two breathing down my back! Now get out of here you clingy old rag! Do you know how many times we failed a scheme because you had to drag that stupid metal ball around? It's bringing me down, just like you!"

That hit a nerve with Gus, who stared at Phineas, then felt the chain around his foot. He tugged at it, then sniffled, and looked up at Phineas. "Phineas I…I'm sorry I'm such a nuisance…I'm going to go get Leota and the Host to fix this. You…get a moment's peace. I'm so sorry for being so difficult."

Gus walked off, dragging his ball along the ground like he had a limp. Phineas turned away from him as guilt sunk into his ghostly body. But he couldn't bring himself to turn around to apologize. He didn't know what to do. He never did. He considered Constance's offer, then came up with his own idea. "I'll find one of the butlers, then I'll get Ezra back, then I'm going to lock both of those two megalomaniacs away where they'll never find me again


	10. Chapter 9: RIPped to shreds(sorry)

The Host was busy going through the hall of paintings interviewing whoever he ran into. He walked up to the peasant werewolf, who was busy roasting marshmallows over a burning town in his time off. He cleared his throat and asked, "Excuse me, have you see a mortal?"

"You're tailing the wrong guy. But whatever you're looking for, it sounds ruff." The werewolf noted, before returning to his marshmallows. The Host nodded then continued to the next painting of a young woman, who was enjoying a nap.

"Excuse me?" The Host knocked on the painting and April woke up, "No! What have you done?"

The woman turned from beautiful into a grotesque hag, December, who said, "I'm exhausted."

"You just slept."

"And I got ten hours. Why am I tired?" December asked as she rolled over.

"Have you possibly seen a mortal go by here?"

"Ugh. Ask me in the morning." She rolled over and turned back into a beautiful woman as soon as she fell asleep. The Host continued down the hall until he came upon a portrait of a young man who was free from the painting and arguing with everyone. Master Gracey was too young when he died, so, rather expectedly, he did his best to make the most of his youth, by playing Graves and Ghouls with all the other paintings.

"The door ahead of you is clean and safe. On the other side you can hear mortals talking about taxes and bills." Master Gracey explained to his other players. To his left was the Horseman, who wore a wizard hat on top of his ghastly attire. This was followed by Catty, who was rolled over as she played. Finally, there was Medusa, who wore a pair of sunglasses as her snakes began to shake the dice.

"I roll for stealth." Medusa said, crossing her fingers. Her snakes were tensing up in anticipation. The dice landed on the board below with a clatter. Ironically, she got a two.

"You try to open the door stealthily, but instead you fall over and cause a bunch of bookshelves to fall over like dominos. The mortals ready their weapons, shouting out their deadly battle cry! 'Who are you gonna call?'"

"Agh!" Medusa and her snakes began to panic. The Horseman chose to intervene, "Don't worry Medula, warrior of the catacombs, Ichabo of Toad Terrace used an enchanted book of sorcery to distract them and protect you!"

"Feli, cat queen of the Nile rolls around on the floor and meows loudly, purring to her friends." Catty mewed. Everyone looked at her with deadpanned looks. Master Gracey sighed and asked, "Catty, are you sure you're not a furry?"

"No! Why do you always say that?"

"Excuse me?" The Host interrupted the group, "Master Gracey?"

"He is not Master Gracey! He is Nathanial, Dungeon Master!" the Horseman announced. The Host sighed, "Ok, Nathanial, Dungeon Master, I'm looking for a mortal."

"A mortal? What did she look like?" Gracey asked, as the others tried to remember. Medusa asked, "Did she have a yellow rain coat? Pretty sure I saw a little girl like that on one of the boats."

"Does she give good belly rubs?" Catty asked. The whole group tried to pretend that question didn't happen. The Host answered, "She's wearing a pair of sneakers and a t-shirt."

"I didn't see her, but I saw Hatbox running around. Did you know he was back?" the Horseman asked. Gracey answered with a question, "No. What's he doing walking around?"

"I'm going to find out." The Host answered, straightening his jacket. Junior thought for a second then said, "Some of the little portraits began to act aloof earlier near the library. Maybe he's there?"

"Thank you."

"Are you sure you don't want to stay for a game of Graves and Ghouls?" Gracey asked, offering a pair of dice to the Host, who declined. "I wish I could, but I'm much too busy."

"Ok but come back again some time!" Medusa offered, and Catty added, "And bring treats."

"Catty, really?" The Horseman asked, ready to pull his head off. The Host left them to it and went forward towards the library.

The library was well stocked with all the greatest ghost stories of all the greatest ghost writers the literary world had ever known. It was surprisingly closed off by Hatbox, who was pondering his given situation. He had hoped that the ingrates had taken care of Constance by now. But here he was, pacing back and forth like a fool waiting for them. He was surprised to see the Host of all people headed down the hall towards the library.

He was surprised to see Hatbox, and Hatbox was alarmed to see him.

"Hatbox! I thought you were getting settled into the attic…" The Host inquisited. Hatbox stammered for a moment, "Ah yes. Well I just wanted to have a look around the old place. Read a few books from the old days, you know?"

"Yes…" The Host immediately caught on to what happened. Hatbox had a history of hating humans, mortal and immortal. He must have trapped the mortal here. "Perchance Hatbox, have you seen a mortal come through here?"

"Me, oh no no!" Hatbox began to knead into his cane, fiddling with his hands. "I would never, I have never, a haven't seen a mortal come through, that is!"

"Is that so? I had multiple accounts that the mortal came through here." The Host offered. Hatbox's voice began to lighten.

"And for her safety and the safety of the Mansion, it is my duty to safely guide her to Leota where she will be safe until morning." The Host pressed further. Hatbox cleared his throat, "Yes, of course, of course!"

"So, anyone who is holding the mortal hostage, for example, would be against both me and Leota? Two high ranking members within the mansion?"

"Ah…yes…you are correct. But I'm afraid, curse these poor old bones! I cannot recall if I saw her or not! My memory is not what it used to be, you understand?" Hatbox whimpered, smiling though he was very anxious.

"Hatbox?" The Host asked, to which Hatbox let out a peep and asked, "Yes?"

"Open the door."

"Oh! The door?"

"Yes."

"This door?"

"Yes."

"The door that's behind me?"

"Yes."

"The door which opens?"

"Hatbox!" The Host raised his voice and adjusted his collar. Hatbox shakingly opened the door to reveal a very empty library. They both peered inside.

"What? Where is she?" Hatbox shouted, his jaw dropping to the floor. He quickly picked it up then shoved it back in and said, "I mean, it's empty, of course."

The Host stepped inside and looked around. He felt the walls, breaking cuts in dust in the bookshelves. He eventually came upon a similar trail along the books that cut off at one book titled, "Shipley-Lydecker."

The Host felt the book then eventually heard a loud click. The bookcase began to open, it's boards sliding apart with the books still delicately balancing on them as its parts swung outwards like a spiral staircase. It went upstairs, up to a trap door that opened from above. The Host knew this path a little too well, while Hatbox was amazed, "How long has that been there?"

"When the mortals installed the buggies, they needed to put the mechanisms somewhere. It runs through the mansion as clockwork." The Host explained, going up the stairs. Hatbox tailed behind nervously, "So, we shouldn't have any problems regarding any other spirits up here?"

The Host made it to the top of a massive wooden catwalk surrounded by massive gears and cogs. Each burst of steam in the boiler room let out a green spew that formed a deathly skull. The Host looked around and concluded, "No, usually only mortals work here."

"Good." Hatbox raised his cane high and delivered a frightful smack to the Host's head from behind. The Host took the hit, then turned around to return the favor, but Hatbox brought him down with a second swing. Hatbox stood over the unconscious ghoul, then chuckled, delivering a heavy kick to the side for good measure. "These old bones still have a kick to them."

He looked around and like he had done with so many bodies, he began to drag it and dispose of the evidence. Hatbox tossed the Host's limp body into the clockwork then adjusted his hat, chuckling to himself. He tipped his hat, then vanished without a trace.

Down below, the Host landed onto a massive gear that dragged him onto a chain up into a massive gear primed to crush him. Blue mist began to form around him as my voice began to ring out, "Host! Let not your spirit fail! Awaken once more! Awaken!"

The mist formed into a ball floating beside the Host, shouting again, "Awaken! Awaken!"

The Host neared the gear above, inciting me to float up ahead of him and coat the gear in blue smoke, illuminating it with a glow. It began to brake, scraping its partners around it. It took a great deal of strength for me to bring it to a rough halt, and even then, the Host would not awaken. I clenched my teeth as the gear stopped, and the chain began to yearn for its grasp. I let the spirits answer my call, fog sweeping over the Host before eventually tearing him off the chain. I set him down below and watched him. I took a deep breath, then considered my options.

"Ghosts and ghouls, free from their frames, send us home to my domain!" I let the blue smoke form around us and send us back to the séance room. My curtains came to my side and began to shake him, trying to wake him up. It wasn't graceful of me, but I was worried for the young ghoul. I tried to think of what to do and summoned something from my collection.

My music box kept the mansions stable, ensured that no harm came to the Mansions around the world. Its song had the ability to bring life out of everything, inanimate objects, the dead, everything. Carefully, my curtains opened it, and the song began to play.

Wake ye unrestless souls

Wake up and mend all holes

Though your paths have taken tolls

Wake ye unrestless souls

This is your home

Your dream, your mind

A place to call your own

A place for you to resign

Wake ye unrestless souls

Wake up and dance the floor

Wake ye unrestless souls

Or else wake ye nevermore…

The music box began to glimmer and spill out the music, awakening the instruments around us, and inciting them to play, and with them, came the Host, who woke up with a scared breath. I loomed over him in relief and a twinge of disappointment before sliding the music box back among the trinkets.

"You used the music box…" The Host asked. I closed my eyes then justified my decision, "I didn't know the extent of the damages, and we haven't time to lose."

"We need that music box to make sure the mansions stay stable and the dead don't stay dead. It brings us to life and makes some of the other inanimate objects come to life. It's not supposed to be wasted!"

I would not argue with him, "In the thousand years that I've been managing these Mansions, and the half a century you've been here, I do not think you are justified to giving me instructions on how to do my duties."

"But…"

"Silence." I ended it there. "Now, I sense a great evil is coming to end us. What happens to that mortal will change the fate of many of our mansions."

I was surprised to hear someone run in. Run here was a difficult term to use, since he was dragging a massive ball and chain around his leg. Gus came in and shouted for my attention, "Madame Leota! Madame Leota!"

He stopped himself to take a breath, leaning over and wheezing. "Oh…heavens above…"

"Gus, you came unannounced." The Host noted, prepared to escort him out. I corrected the behavior, "Allow the prisoner to speak."

"Thank you, your excellence." Gus wheezed, then explained, "It's about my friends. Ezra has been captured by the Bride, and Phineas agreed to get her a butler or a maid in exchange for him. Then Hatbox tried to deal the mortal in exchange for Constance. Everybody is making deals, everything is terrible."

"Hatbox no longer has the mortal." The Host explained, "I was investigating him in the library when he tried to get rid of me. Thank you again, your excellence."

"You're welcome, Host. Now. The mortal is likely still somewhere in the mansion. If I have enough time, then I should be able to locate her, but I need something of hers to do it."

"Would this work?" Gus asked, taking out a small can of spray. He presented it to the Host, who in turn presented it to me. I approved it, "This will do. Now, you two need to stop Phineas. If you encounter Constance or Hatbox in the process, alert me immediately Gus."

The Host was offended by this and gawked at me, and at Gus. Gus took one look at Host and understood what I was talking about it. I kindly asked, "Host, could you excuse us for a moment?"

He begrudgingly nodded then vanished. I looked to Gus, and explained, "The Host is under the influence of the bride. I'm sure you're familiar with what happens to those who become affiliated."

Gus nodded, "It happened to Ezra once. She drained the life out of him until he was nothing but a skeleton, then tossed him away like an old rag."

"I can already sense some of the effects on the Host. It is imperative that you do not let him engage with either Constance or Hatbox. Hatbox is just as guilty for those murders as the bride."

"What happened there?" Gus asked. I reluctantly sighed. "Constance murdered her husbands, and Hatbox, infatuated with her, helped stuff the bodies and hide them in his hatboxes. Little did he know that old habits die hard, and he would be number six, ensuring there were no more loose ends."

"That's really messed up."

"We are all disturbed, one way or another. To the matter at hand. There is a threat to us all. Constance likely found it through investigating the Host's mind. She will do everything in her power to stop it."

"I thought she was the bad guy."

"Self-preservation takes priority over greed most of the time. Now go. The Host will escort you to the servant's quarters." I opened the curtains for him to meet up with the Host in the other room. He was giving Gus an angered glare, to which the prisoner gave a friendly wave. I closed the curtain behind him then returned to tracking Lillian.

The Host offered his hand to Gus, who took it with both hands and shook it happily. The Host floated down the hall, leading the prisoner along with him.


	11. Chapter 10: Hangin' around

Phineas had lost his mind in the meantime. A butler was freely settling into his quarters, his suit set down on a hanger beside his bed, leaving him in his vest as he adjusted his personal bed. He straightened his tie and began to clean a mirror hanging on the wall. It was at this time he heard a knocking.

The butler stopped himself to listen for the knocking, then eyed the mirror, which continued to knock as he peered into it. Phineas launched his hand out of the mirror from nowhere and grabbed the butler by his tie, smacking him against the glass. He came from behind the wall and looked over the unconscious servant. "Sorry bud."

"Phineas!" Gus shouted from the entrance of the brick lined cellar that was the servant's quarters. The Host took Gus's side defensively as they approached the former leader of the Hitchhiking Ghosts. Phineas looked to both then the butler, "No more Gus. Leave now."

"Phineas, there's something bigger going on. Did you ever stop to ask why Constance needed a butler?"

"I don't know, and I don't care. I want my friend back and I want to leave all this place behind us." Phineas shouted, standing over the butler.

"If you don't stop this, there won't be a place for you to leave! This is more than your personal interconnections. Something horrible is happening all around us, and we could be next." The Host stepped forward, and Phineas stepped back. Phineas replied, "So what? With all your talk about death, how about we let this place die?"

"Because if the Mansion falls, all of us go with it!" The Host answered. Gus calmly tried to reach out to Phineas, "Please, Leota is locating the mortal. We can get Ezra, and all of us can sort this whole thing out."

"What threat?" Phineas asked, stepping towards the two. The Host explained, "Some of our neighbors have been…destroyed. We didn't think anything of it at first, but a few that the Dreamer worked on were eyed for replacement. Leota is scared that we'll be next."

"This mansion has been here longer than any mortals could understand. We've done nothing but be kind to them. You don't think they would destroy us…for a few bucks?" Phineas asked. Gus put his arm on Phineas' shoulder, and looked to him, "We can't take the risk. And with everything that's happening, it could determine whether the mansion is another space waiting to be filled up."

The three began to walk back upstairs to the back where the pet cemetery was resting beside them. Gus hesitated to ask, "What now? We just need to find the mortal then we should be fine, right?"

"I have located the mortal." I reached out to them, "She is in the observatory. You must hasten, now!"

The Host grabbed the other two and floated through the window, dragging the other two along with him towards the upper floors. He shouted back to me, "Why, what's going on?"

The Host landed in the window of the observatory. He looked across the open chasm where a window was waiting, open. The long white gown of Constance flowed down the platform into the chasm down below as she smiled at the trio. She had an axe to Lillian, the blade holding her chin up.

Constance chuckled, "I had a feeling you'd come soon. Did you want to meet?"

She regarded Gus and Phineas, moving around the observatory as the trio across from her prepared to strike. "Hello Gus. How do you feel Phineas? Does it hurt? The guilt? You get used to it. I could teach you how to crave it, when everything else dies."

She stopped in her tracks as Lillian whimpered in the woman's arms. The trio tried to make a move for Constance, but she stopped them, "Don't move a muscle. Boxy has the last one of you little paupers in his collection. Now, do you want to go over what's going to happen here?"

The Host was about to make a move, but Constance held the blade closer to Lillian. "You are going to get Leota to talk to one of the high-ranking mortals."

"I can't do that."

"You will. For me." Constance reminded him, "Then, we will explain that we have one of their kind hostage. When that happens, we will agree that they will not replace this mansion or any of the others with their silly heroes or space shooters. They will leave us alone. Forever."

"Constance, I know you're scared, but it's unlikely they'll go through with any major changes." The Host tried to approach her, and Constance stood still, keeping her hostage close. She argued against this, "Of course you'd say that. You haven't changed once. But me? Over and over and over again they've changed me. Tried to make me different. Like I wasn't good enough for them. Then when I finally think I've got it right, that I'm finally comfortable, that rat Hatbox came back and stole everything from me."

"Hey, we got cleaned up too!" Gus argued, but Phineas was too afraid of Constance to make a move.

"Not like me…I had everything I wanted. An attic all to myself. All the books I could read. An organ to play. But I still wasn't good enough. So, they're going to replace me with that waste of a corpse! And now, they'll replace this whole mansion. They'll tear it down. You think they won't? You aren't a doll that they dress up every ten years when they feel like it!"

The Host got closer and closer to Constance, "You need to let go of her. If something happens now they will get rid of you and possibly everyone else."

Constance held her ground, her eyes crazy and afraid. She primed the axe at her victim's throat and prepared to chop.

The Host got close and eventually was within reaching distance of Lillian. "Constance, we won't be replaced. Now please, put down the axe."

Constance smiled then shook her head, "Don't you just wish that were true?"

She kicked Lillian down into the chasm of the Stretching room below, then made a hard chop into the Host's head, sticking the axe in place. The Host took a second to recover, but Constance immediately tore out the axe and hit him from the side, nailing the Host to the wall.

Gus and Phineas leapt for Lillian, hitting each other before clutching a rope that was hanging from the ceiling of the observatory. They slid down the rope until they felt a sudden stop when they grabbed Lillian's hand. The three hung from the rope, holding onto each other.

"Hold on kid!" Phineas shouted. Lillian looked to the end of the rope, where the corpse of the Host was hanging. She screamed, but Gus kept holding onto her, but Phineas' grip was breaking because of the massive weight from both beneath him. Although the fall could probably be avoided by both him and Gus, he needed to keep the kid ok.

That's when he saw the familiar smile looming over them. He looked up to see Constance Hatchaway wielding her axe right next to the rope. She cocked his head at him and waved, causing Phineas to pale. He shouted down to Gus, "Gus, use that big chain of yours and start swinging!"

"What? Have you lost your mind?" Gus shouted back up, and Lillian just held on for dear life.

"We're about to experience a sudden drop and stop!" Phineas warned him. Constance strummed the string like it was a guitar, then chuckled as she prepared the axe like a golf club. Gus swung and swung his barbell further and further as they neared the walls of the room.

Phineas closed his eyes and braced for the fall. There was a sharp twang and the rope was cut, sending Lillian, Gus and Phineas for a long fall towards the wall. A loud crash came forth, and the three smashed into the next room, causing them to land rather painfully.

Phineas was woken up by a skeleton in a suit. He whined and hesitantly asked. Gracey shook his head, then assured him, "Nope. You alright man?"

Phineas rubbed his eyes then got up and rubbed his head. "Yeah."

He looked for Gus and Lillian, who were busy recovering from the fall. Medusa was busy shaking Gus, her snakes peeled back so they didn't try to bite the guy while the Horseman and Catty helped Lillian. As soon as Gus woke up, he immediately shouted, "It was the other two! I swear!"

"Right…" Medusa just casually set him down and backed away. Junior looked at the massive hole in the wall, then thought to himself for a moment. Phineas chuckled then said, "Sorry about your wall."

"Eh. It's an improvement. Opens up the room a bit more." Gracey shrugged. Lillian woke up to see the Horseman's face right in front of her and was about to scream, then decided, "Know what? Actually, I've seen worse today."

"Aw that's sweet." Catty added. Lillian did manage to cringe at Catty on the other hand, "Ugh."

"Gus! I have fantastic news!" Phineas took back his original jolly tone, likely due to the adrenaline rush from falling through a wall. Gus got up and rubbed his head, "What…?"

"I found the mortal! Now we just need to grab Ezra and get out of here! This is all according to plan!" Phineas assured him. Everyone looked at him with a confused look, when Gus asked, "What?"

"Did you doubt me Gus?" Phineas asked, raising his eyebrow. Gracey hesitantly asked, "Smashing through a wall was your plan?"

"Oh. Smashing through a wall is normal." Gus assured them. Medusa added, "So was going against the Host and Leota?"

"Average Sunday night." Phineas nodded.

"Crashing a hearse?" Horseman asked.

"Fifth one this month." Gus pointed out.

"Making deals with psychopaths?" Catty asked.

"Ever heard of Captain Culpepper Clyne?" Phineas asked, "Regardless, now all that's left is to bring down that old coot Hatbox and get Ezra back, then we'll all be free to go. Jillian, are you excited? No more Constance! No more Host! We're all getting out of here!"

"But the Host said…" Gus tried to intervene.

"The Host's head is in four pieces Gus. Ask yourself, do you really think he is justified to be taking care of anyone right now?" Phineas opened his arms. Gus thought about what I said, then shook his head.

"I didn't think so. Now, my brilliant wonderful, extra full, majestic perfect plan requires all of you." Phineas spun around to the portrait group who squinted at him. Gracey excitedly beamed, happy to be involved for once, "Really?"

"No. I could probably just get away with bringing Medusa." Phineas admitted. Medusa lightly clapped while everyone else scowled.

"Ok fine, we're all going!" Phineas caved in to the others, who began to cheer. Gus looked to Phineas carefully, not sure whether Phineas was in proper mental condition to be directed something this big. Phineas clapped his hands together and went over the plan.

"Now, here's what we'll do…" He took the Ghouls and Graves playset from the ground and drew out some plans, pushing pieces to represent different people. "Gus and I will come in here with a coffin, claiming we caught Constance."

He drew a scribble of Hatbox and titled it, "Ugly jerk face."

"Then, when he explains he doesn't have the mortal, Gus and I will heckle him and distract him. Meanwhile, everyone except Medusa will move in from the window and try to find Ezra in the pile of hatboxes. Medusa, you will be in the coffin in case something goes wrong, and we need to turn Hatbox to stone."

"Why not just do that in the first place?" Lillian asked the coach. Phineas answered without batting an eye, "Because this a team sport Jillian! Get your head in the game!"

"Oh boy! This is just like a game of Ghouls and Graves!" Gracey excitedly clapped.

"Now, in the chance that the bride shows up…" Phineas drew a little face with devil horns and a tail and a veil. "Horseman and Catty will distract her while everyone else works on finding Ezra."

"Wait, why me and Catty?" Horseman asked. Gus was ready to answer, "Because you're used to being headless and Catty is far more disturbing than Constance will ever be." But Phineas covered his friend's mouth.

"Because you have a sword and Catty has claws." Phineas chuckled. Catty frowned, "I don't know. I'm not sure if I can attack anyone."

"You're not sure?" Phineas asked. Catty shook her head. Phineas pursed his lips then nonchalantly said, "It's ok. Constance doesn't like cats anyway."

"What?"

"Oh yeah. She hates cats. She thinks they're all rats with long legs."

 **"** **I will make it my life's mission to destroy her."** Catty said, her eyes turning a blood red as she had the power of creepy fan art and hellfire, which was only slightly less disturbing than the creepy fan art.

"Now, if all goes according to plan, Ezra will be back together, and we can all leave this mansion and these crazies together!" Phineas proclaimed, standing proud, "Now is the time for doing above average. I won't deny most of you are bad at your jobs. I'm pretty sure I saw Catty chewing on some plastic earlier. But together, if a bunch of below average individuals come together, we can all work together as one fully functioning adult! And that is the most powerful thing of all."

Nobody was sure whether they were supposed to cheer or feel insulted. Phineas sighed and whispered, "Clap."

They obliged with surprise, then whistled in joy. Words could not describe how doomed they were.


	12. Chapter 11: Resting Peace

"See? Wasn't so difficult." Phineas gave a fake smile and a quick breath. Ezra and Gus looked at each other questioningly. Phineas stopped the others in their tracks as they neared the secondary barrier. The four took a second to catch their breath and sat down to laugh at the whole situation. "Here we are again."

"Wow. You two look awful. I'd have to say that's an improvement though." Ezra wanted to go in for a hug, but just decided for a handshake instead. The other two looked to one another and went in for the hug anyway.

"Woah there! Ok! These bones aren't made of steel, little tight there. Ok, ok." Ezra begrudgingly hugged back. "Missed you two idiots…"

"Don't you ever leave us again!" Gus grabbed his ear and scolded him for breaking his heart before letting go to hug him again. Ezra chuckled, then the three took a moment before Gus said, "I think I have fleas."

The other two repulsed and let go, brushing themselves free of Gus' loose hairs. Phineas groaned, "That is so gross!"

Gus chuckled then apologized, "I'm sorry. I couldn't help myself."

"If the Host doesn't kill us, I am going to kill you myself. You're already dead, but I'll find a way." Ezra assured him. The trio crept up to the next archway and peered around at the second barrier. Phineas shushed the others and looked ahead while Lillian watched from afar.

"Ok, be very quiet and let me do the talking." Phineas put two fingers to his mouth and crouched down as they neared the last defense of the exit. As they passed quietly and stealthily, above them was a small doll, no bigger than a pot watching patiently.

The Ghostess was a busy thing who made sure that no problems came to the mansion. She cared for the organization of the in and out of people leaving the Mansion. Her mother ran most of operations from the séance room, so she was often very bored. Her greatest joy in life was watching the guests in her little spot just before the exit. She hoped they would come back.

Right now, she was working on some Death Certificates, verification that they were residents within the Mansion. She had sat herself down on the counter and flipped through the scrolls when she was surprised to see Phineas.

"Well if it isn't little Leota! How is my pint-sized prophet?" Phineas asked, sending some finger guns towards the Ghostess. The Ghostess didn't like being ridiculed, especially by this hooligan, but she had become used to it given her size. "Professor Phineas Pock, how may I help you today?"

"Ah! Someone finally remembered I am officially a Professor. Well, Ghostess who I love the most-est. My friends and I were hoping to leave with our mortal friend."

"That's odd. As I recall I thought that visiting hours were over."

"She was left behind overnight."

"Oh. That's terrible. Have you talked with the Host and Leota about it?" the Hostess asked, looking through some information and bird seed, "I can get them now if you'd like."

"That won't be necessary. Leota thinks I'm not a good person and thinks I'd do something horrible out there. In many ways, that is true. But, but! Think of it this way! Would you really separate her from her family? You know what it's like to be separated don't you?" Phineas pulled a photo from the shelf the Ghostess was resting on, "Your mother is always away in the séance room. Wouldn't you like to see her?"

"Phineas. You threw a baby. There is no way in the fifth dimension that I am letting you and your lackeys out." The Hostess stood her ground and glared at Phineas.

He grabbed the small ghost and threw her with all his might down the stairs behind him. When she was out of the picture, he straightened his collar, then moved back up to the exit. The remaining group was a little horrified by this and followed Phineas at a distance.

The exit was now in sight, and all four stepped out into the moonlight. Phineas took a deep breath in the night air and looked back at the others. "Isn't it wonderful?"

He smiled gleefully and invited them to join him, "Come on! Let's go."

"Phineas. We can't leave. Not yet." Gus told him. Phineas turned to him and watched as Lillian stepped out into the air. The night was cold and open. They were finally out.

"We really had to work for it this time." Ezra noted. They stepped outside the Mansion at a bench and all three sat down. Eventually Lillian wandered up, and Phineas, the most stubborn of the bunch, moved so she could sit down. The four gazed up at the stars and relaxed.

They felt alive.

"This is it, huh? I never thought it would be so rewarding just to sit down and…rest." Lillian admitted. The three nodded. Ezra begged the question, and asked, "Hey, do you think this is what heaven is like?"

"What do you mean?" Phineas asked. Ezra answered with a breath, "People spend all their lives, all they can to come here, to get a feeling of hope and living. Some people whose bodies aren't dead are dead inside. And that hurts. But…heaven, must be that feeling when you don't feel lonely anymore. Like nothing is stuffy or crowded…that everything is ok."

"Guess we'll never know." Gus admitted.

"Even so, we're all, together aren't we? We all did it." Phineas exhaled. A minute passed, and Gus said, "I think that this is what heaven is…to know everything is going to be alright. That it was worth it."

The other two smiled and without saying a word, agreed. They sat there for a long time, eventually all but Lillian falling asleep.

Why do we try?

Watching for sunlight?

Watching for dawn?

Why does a lullaby

Must end

When is it gone?

"There you all are!" The shout of the Host came from the front entrance. He was standing beside a very tired Caretaker with the Ghostess hiding behind his pant leg. "You are coming back and explaining yourselves to Leota."

I always sleep

With you by my side

Push you away

I've tried

But every day…

My lullaby comes back to me

And I dream a wakeless little dream

Lillian shushed him, then pointed up at the stars before tapping the ground beside the bench. The Host eyed her, then took the moment to sit down next to the others. They were soon joined by the painting players, where Catty curled up at the foot of the bench and Horseman held his head under his shoulder.

I couldn't have thought you'd stay

Even now I think you're away

Distant and unforgiving

Patient. Unrelenting

Why does our lullaby have to be this way?

I remember long ago

We were so close you know

We had something although

We were apart

But my lullaby keeps dreaming on…

It was a long time before Constance and Hatbox even stepped out of the shadows. The Host looked at them, then looked to Lillian. Lillian, in turn, stood up and slowly approached the two so they could pass through the barrier. She stared at them, then looked at the axe Constance instinctively had in her hand, and glared at her, urging her to put it down.

Oh 'Neath this dismal cave

I dream for you so brave

A lullaby in the night

To come and hold me tight

And keep me safe and warm

Constance looked at the axe and slowly dropped it to the ground with a clatter when Lillian offered her hand. Constance reached for it, but her hand passed right through it. Constance sadly looked at her and bowed her head. Lillian frowned in disappointment, but she reached in and took the hand herself.

Though my curiosity

Has gotten the better of me

My lullaby still dies

To be with you again

Just like we did then

And when the night is through

I know just what I'll do

Constance and Hatbox couldn't pass through without being forgiven first, and in that moment, Lillian let them pass through the barrier. As Constance stepped into the moonlight, Hatbox followed behind. They took one another in either hand and for the first time in a long time, they both danced with their devils in the moonlight.

I'll wake from my bed alone

And call you out there in the cold

Back to our home

And when we're both dead and old

I'll remember what we had and so

The night can bring us in tow

Until the lullaby slips away…

Ahhhhhh….

Ahh…

Ah.

Ahhh…

La

Lala

La la

They danced for a little while, but eventually they sat down next to each other. The whole group was all together, all taking a break from trying to hurt one another for just a moment. This would eventually end, but for the moment, they were outside of the mansion. They were free of their dark places, and in that, they found heaven.

Hatbox woke up Constance later, making her look at him sadly, before getting up and smiling. A genuine smile. Not hateful or horrible. But it turned sad, and Hatbox helped her back inside before the others could get back up. Constance brushed her foot against the hilt of her axe as she was about to go inside. She picked it up, and she and Hatbox exchanged looks.

Until the lullaby I hold you dear

Won't rest until you're near

And the nightfall slips away…

Dum dum dum…

Constance set the axe down gently before looking to her hands. She slipped off her wedding ring, the one given to her by her fifth husband. She set it down on the ground and raised her foot high before nailing it into the stone with a stomp. She picked back up the axe then gave an evil look to Hatbox, who returned the look.

She slung the axe over her shoulder, then the pair went down the hall. Hatbox chuckled, and the two made the long climb up to the attic.

When the Hitchhikers awoke, the Host stood over them. "Come now. Time to go back inside."

"Five more minutes…" Gus said, rolling over as he used his beard as a bed. Ezra yawned and picked up the dwarf then loaded him up on his shoulders. Phineas eventually joined them, going with the others back inside.

"Come in, all of you, Leota will help." The Host nodded, and the traveler and the skeleton helped their friend in, followed soon behind by Lillian.


	13. Chapter 12: Having a Ball

Phineas, Ezra, Gus, the Host, and Lillian all came to the séance room to discuss Lillian's arrangements. It likely wouldn't take much time for the butlers to open our gates to the public again, but four hours is not a time to bat an eye at. We discussed her sleeping arrangements as an earnest matter.

"We can take care of her, your excellence. Trust me, the hitchhikers have proven to be more than adept at caring for her." Phineas assured me. The Host seemed to be in a good mood, like a great relief had been lifted, so he laughed at him, "Ah yes. I'm quite sure throwing her through some more walls should put her right to bed, deathbed that is."

He laughed, and I was rather pleased by this development. I addressed Phineas, "As to your offer, I'm afraid that she would be better suited under the Host and I's care. I'd like to thank you for all your help though, Professor Pock."

"If you think we're abandoning that kid after all this, then you're madder than a hatter!" Gus tried to charge forward, but Ezra chuckled and held him back with a pinch at his shirt.

"Respectfully, you are clearly quite capable, but Lillian has been in danger from Constance and Hatbox consistently since she was under your care. Under my supervision and the Host's, those two will not interfere." I assured him, "If something happens, then I will contact you. Would you find that suitable?"

Gus calmed down and Phineas raised his eyebrow before looking at the others. "It'll do. But…I would like something in return."

"At what point in time did you think you were in a position to be bargaining?" The Host asked, but I gave him a glare. "What are your terms?"

"I need a park bus." Phineas said, planning something in his masterful brain.

"You want to take a bus?" I inquisitee. The Host intervened, " 'Wheel' think about it."

I bowed my head in shame, reluctant to admit I had ever worked with this ghost. I sensed the puns would get worse. It was agonizing, and every time I thought about it I felt like I was swallowing rocks, even though I had no stomach. "I'll see what I can do about a bus."

"Excellent!" Phineas proclaimed. He spun around on one foot and led his cohorts out. As soon as they left, Lillian entered the séance room. "Um…hello?"

"Greetings, Lillian of the mortal coil."

"Hello, you're Madame Leota, right?"

"That is correct." I approved of the title. "You will be staying here in the mansion until morning. I have picked out the best suite in the mansion for you upstairs."

"I'm ok, thanks. I don't really want to be alone in a big creepy mansion."

"That is understandable. The Host will guide you through the west wing at your whim. Feel free to find somewhere you feel comfortable." I blindly encouraged. Lillian curiously looked around and began to look at instruments and items strewn about the room. I closed my eyes and prepared to call out to the great beyond, seeking out information about how to contact those within the park to get help for Lillian.

This was interrupted by a loud clang of Lillian dropping a tuba. I opened my eyes and looked to her, trying to understand what she was doing. She seemed to be picking up random object and trying to see if she could get them to play.

"Typically, you need to blow into a tuba to make it play."

"I know." She assured me, "But I want to see if I can make it come to life."

"It is not alive. Ghouls will play my instruments when I want them to."

"Oh." She returned to her 'work' while I returned to mine. I called out to the spirits, desperate to hear their calls and seek advice for…what is that obnoxious tapping? I opened my eyes to see Lillian trying to figure out how my crystal ball worked by tapping it. I cleared my throat and patiently asked, "Perchance, did you learn your manners from a ferret?"

"Sorry. I just am bored."

"You have been in this room for five minutes. How could you possibly be bored with everything now?" I squinted at her.

"How does your ball work?"

I sighed and answered, "This increases my ability to contact other spirits from the beyond."

"Oh. Why don't you leave the room and talk to them outside?"

"Because the outside is messy, and people are loud." People like her. "In here, they leave me alone and nobody can annoy me. Understood?"

"Yep."

I sighed, then kept one eye open this time. Lillian reached up to grab one of my portraits, but I quickly moved the entire room the other direction one inch, so she fell to the ground. I chuckled at my work, then looked away to pretend nothing happened. She scowled at me from the corner of my eye and proceeded to pick up a violin.

She brought down her spear of death upon the violin, letting out a screeching noise that caused me to wince. My curtains picked her up and took the violin from her before picking her up. They rolled her up like sushi and dangled her in front of me. I cleared my throat and kindly asked, "Could you behave yourself?"

"…Your room has all this stuff, and you're not talking to me." Lillian reminded me. I explained, "I am the most powerful ghost in the mansion. I do not have time for games."

"You work at a theme park."

"I do not work here. I live here and tolerate mortals like you. Now stop this nonsense and please go to bed." I corrected, but she had the audacity to poke me right on the nose, making me fall back in surprise. "Did you just poke my nose?"

I just realized how that sounded out of context. I took a deep breath then swung the curtains over to a wall, unrolling her into a hammock made up of the curtains. Another curtain flew up and over her, sliding under her so she was tucked in. I sighed and let the torches all around the room go out before calmly encouraging her, "Now, sleep."

"You're a giant blue ball of light. Why don't you turn off?" She asked. My patience was wearing thin, and I turned around to her. I dimmed my fire the best I could, still emitting a small light source. "Better?"

"No."

"Well I can't go any darker. Now, I implore you to go to sleep." I lowered down onto my table and tried to once again contact the spirits. It wasn't long before I heard a clatter coming from my left.

Lillian was busy messing with more stuff and came dangerously close to my music box. Without hesitation, I summoned the Host, instantly teleporting him in. He was busy brushing his teeth in his underpants.

"You will be attending to her." I picked her up with my curtains and dropped her in the Host's surprised arms.

"I just…" The Host began, but I teleported him away and sighed heavily. My room was a mess. I quickly blew out a blue mist that began to rearrange everything. I liked a mess, but an organized mess. For example, there was a painting on the wall that was straightened. That simply wouldn't do, and I quickly crooked it.


	14. Chapter 13: The Thirteenth Hour

_Author's Note: Dearest mortals. Please forgive us for this minor setback. Some meddlesome spirits decided to interfere with our computing devices, and so this wretched tale was delayed. Thank you for you patience. We hope you find this long chapter as delightfully unliveable as we spirits do. Now as they say, look alive..._

The Host was busy trying to take care of Lillian. Naturally, like all good upperclassman, he decided to take a child to a party. Because that's what good parents do. The Swinging Wake was a daily celebration done by the richer ghosts, who usually partied and discussed politics. The Pepper dancers were possibly one of the more notable examples.

For those who didn't know the Pepper brothers and their spouses, Peppa, Poppi, and Anne, they were a group of brothers who coincidentally all died rather unfortunately while dancing due to an incident call the butter ballroom, in which they danced and spun on a floor covered in butter, and accidentally spun themselves out the window. They still have a chronic fear of butter to this day.

Lillian was not aware of this when she entered the ballroom. Instead, she looked around and couldn't help but notice the loud and abrasive man dangling from the chandelier who called out to The Host. This was Pickwick.

"Hark! The prodigal son has returned!" Pickwick taunted the Host.

"I hope you aren't feeling too Pick-y, Pickwick." The Host chuckled. Everyone in the ballroom groaned. Lillian chuckled. She gave it some props. Pickwick slunk down from his chandelier, "Ah! The puns have returned. What's the occasion?"

"I recently lost my mind."

"Oh. Don't bother looking for it. I've probably sold it on the market."

"What?"

"What." Pickwick finished the conversation at that. He introduced himself to Lillian with a handshake, "Pickwick, entrepreneur."

"Lillian, mortal." Lillian introduced herself. Pickwick approved, "I can see. Tell me, have you told old Mister Gracey about her?"

"I think it's best we don't. You know how he feels about this sort of thing." The Host reminded him. Pickwick didn't need reminding.

"I thought Mister Gracey was the guy in the portrait hall?" Lillian argued. Pickwick shook his head, "Oh no, that's Master Gracey. He died too young to be called mister."

"Well that's sad." Lillian noted. Pickwick shrugged. "He died rich. That's the best thing that could have happened."

"Host! Sweet Host!" Caesar shouted out to the three. "It's a pleasure to see you here! Let us eat cake and celebrate!"

"Cake?" Lillian looked delighted.

"Don't feed the hyper child cake. Please." The Host clenched his teeth at the last word. Caesar called out, "Come eat cake!"

Lillian ran over to go eat cake. The Host quickly rushed after her. He tried to grab her, and scowled, "No. No. No!"

"I'm going to eat cake now." Lillian said, standing right next to the slice Caesar offered for her.

"Do not eat that cake young lady."

"I am holding the plate." Lillian took the plate.

"Do not eat."

"I took the fork." Lillian taunted further.

"Do not…"

Gulp.

"We're leaving." The Host took Lillian who had a mouthful of cake in her mouth. Pickwick stepped ahead of him, trying to deflect it. "Come now! Host, please! You abandon us every day to work! Now you say you lost your mind and still don't want to join us?"

"I did not anticipate taking care of a mortal."

"I can handle myself!" Lillian insisted. The Host squinted at her, then reminded her, "You've been tossed around by every single ghost in the mansion like a tool."

"I beat that cloaked guy up with a shovel and survived going toe to toe with that bride!" Lillian argued. The Host didn't care, "You are a foolish and ignorant mortal, and you will stay safe!"

Lillian took her fork and stabbed it into the Host's hand, causing him to let go. The Host shouted and held his hand while Lillian ran up past the others to a set of stairs. She managed to outrun him as she went up to the next room. The next room was a dressing room of sorts, where some of the other ghosts were preoccupied with getting suited to their duties. This included a suit of armor who was putting on his arms and legs, and a headless knight who was screwing on his head.

Lillian ducked past them as the Host hurried after her. She called out to the knights, telling them, "Help! Please help!"

The Host tried to get past the knights and the executioner, who all stepped in and blocked the Host's path unquestioningly. The Host grunted and stood his ground against them as Lillian faded from sight, "Out of my way this instant!"

"Negative sire. We were given orders by a higher authority!" The Knight corrected, lifting his visor to see the Host. The Host squinted and asked, "I am the highest-ranking servant in the Mansion, I am the higher authority!"

"Negative, a child gave us orders."

"That child is irresponsible and loose in the middle of a highly populated mansion where someone could grab her and she would get lost!"

"Precisely! Someone like you!"

"I. Work. Here. You impossibly impotent pedestrial paladin!" The Host groaned and shook his head, "I don't have time for this."

He flew at the knight and came out the other side, "Why didn't I do that in the first place?"

"Lillian! Lillian!" He passed into the next room, stumbling a rather unfortunate hallway, one coated wall to wall with door after door after door. He sighed and began calling out to her, "Lillian. Please. It's not safe for a child wandering around the Mansion."

He knocked on a door and someone instantly opened it. A massive cliff was waiting for him at the edge of the doorframe, going down to a mine train that zoomed past through a dinosaur skeleton. The Host struggled and wobbled for a moment and nearly fell out onto the track, but soon regained his balance and closed the door in thin breaths.

He hurried over to the next door where he knocked on a gargoyle knocked and was dragged through the door into a room where a mad scientist was busy torturing a dog and a chicken. He chuckled at it, then walked back through the door to the next door.

"Lillian, please! Enough games!" the Host opened the next door and saw a similar hallway. He stepped through to the next room and fell down from the ceiling into the corridor he just stepped out of.

The Host grit his teeth and began to open doors more viciously. There was a room where a businessman was arguing with a bunch of head busts, to which the Host immediately closed the door, commenting, "That's hot steaming garbage…"

He continued to the next door and opened to see a giant spider staring right back at him. He closed the door slowly and turned back around a deep pale of raw terror. He finally arrived at a last door which was partially open. He opened the door with a powerful swing, looking to see a blue staircase in a massive void.

"Of course…" The Host sighed and called out, "There's no chance you could have been eaten up by that spider, could you?"

He began to make the climb through the staircase as Lillian made her own path through the web of stairs. She had come upon a dizzying section, stairs bending up and down. She passed curious and a little afraid, but…actually, she hadn't a clue what she was doing.

She thought she reached a door at one point, but before her eyes, the door vanished from ahead of her and turned into upwards stairs before reappearing behind her. She turned back around and saw the door and nearly fell back from surprise. She opened the door to go out onto a balcony overlooking the ballroom.

Down below she caught sight of someone introducing themselves to the group. Pickwick, some unknown figures, Sally Slater, the Orator, and a few others were gathered around the table. The endchair was occupied by a tall man in a black and red cloak. He was gazing over some documents and reading through something.

Pickwick began the introduction, "Ladies, gentlemen, it has come to my attention that one woman in white has become aware of the possible fate of the mansion."

"Oh dear. I knew we had to tell her sooner or later." Sally said, "How could we explain this in a way she'll understand?"

"We don't." The Orator explained, "Constance is unreasonable and dangerous. She was the last owner of the mansion, and she died here. Her sentimentality won't allow her to see our reasoning."

"Don't say that! Constance loves new things! Remember when we gave her an axe! She was so happy!"

"She chopped off our heads." A pair of twins said simultaneously as they switched heads as their twin pistols rested on the table.

"Oh. Right. That." Sally cleared her throat. The looming figure at the end of the table spoke up in a deep booming French accent. "Then we have a simple solution. Constance Hatchaway must be set to someplace she won't put the rest of us at risk."

"How exactly do you plan to trap the black widow bride, Phantom?" Pickwick asked, putting his feet up on the table and taking a drink from his bottle. The figure looked up, revealing he had no flesh at all. No soul left in him, only a skeletal face and empty eye sockets.

"There is a large tower located near here. Its defenses are heavy. Billions of artifacts keep some of the most dangerous spirits at bay. I thought it would be amusing to trap her in her last husband's humble hotel." The Phantom answered. Sally seemed off guard by this, "Are you sure that's a good idea? The bride has been with us since day one. She's worked with us, gotten looks that will attract more attention."

"Just like Hatbox, she reached her limit. When we locked him away after he decided not to cooperate, he became an even bigger problem than anticipated. Old coot turned out to be a threat, until the mortals set him free."

"That's something you haven't even considered! What happens to the mortals if we remove the bride?" Caesar argued. Lillian felt a moving at her side as she was joined by Constance Hatchaway. Lillian gasped and backed away. Constance didn't make a sound.

"Nothing most likely. Tell me, for all the changes we've made to her, who looks forward to seeing the bride? More guests are fond of Bob nailed into his coffin than the bride."

Constance gripped the railing tighter and tighter, causing it to bend and twist.

"I won't allow it!" came a familiar cry. Hatbox stumbled into the room, waving his cane. "You are not selling her out."

"Hatbox, I would have thought you of all people would be more than excited to see her go." Phantom addressed the man, unchanged and looming.

"You cannot just get rid of old things because of money!"

"You are not wrong. Take you for example."

"Precisely!" Hatbox raised his personal hatbox to show them. His head vanished from his shoulders to the hatbox and he chuckled before returning to his head. "See? It's like ghost trick vinyl!"

"Sometimes you can put in old things and get money."

"What?"

The Phantom and stood up from his chair. He was taller than any other character in the mansion and dwarfed them all. "Let me explain, Hatbox. You came back because the mortals became obsessed with you. They began to fawn over every inch of information about you. So, we brought you back, and the guests came in the millions to see you. Our profit was perfection."

Hatbox stood his ground as the giant stood over him, his chin jutted out in a snarl. "I came back on my own free will, thank you!"

"Was it? Is your will really free, Hatbox? Do you seem free right now? You are nostalgia, and here, nostalgia means profit." He bent down and picked up Hatbox's hatbox, holding it in one hand.

"Constance was never the most marketable character. Sally was cutesy, Gracey was professional, but Constance?" Phantom looked at Hatbox as he tried to reach for the hatbox. "She wasn't even supposed to be the main attraction. But you wouldn't cooperate. We made do. Now that you're back, we could dedicate the entire attic to you."

"The bride is a staple of the Haunted Mansion!" Hatbox leapt up to grab his box and missed. The Phantom turned to him and said, "That's nostalgia, Hatbox. Without nostalgia, we would have removed her a long time ago, and you wouldn't even exist. But…times change…old places like this aren't scary, aren't flashy. They're old places."

The phantom flicked the hatbox and blew it through the center, "And now, old thing, you'll go back up in that attic and stay there and let the cobwebs take you, because when your hype dies down, we will have no need for you…"

He slid the hatbox firmly onto Hatbox's head, the skull sliding right into the package. The Phantom pushed him back away, and Hatbox cowardly hurried away like a dog with its tail between its legs.

"I'm very confused." Pickwick noted, but the rest of them moved on without him. Sally had to ask, "So, you think that by getting rid of the bride, we'll be able to start replacing the Mansion grounds with something a little more up to date. Toys maybe? Children are never going to be scared of toys. Adults, maybe."

She cleared her throat and got a chill regarding multicultural nightmare dolls.

Constance chuckled at them, then shook her head, before walking back to her attic. She eyed Lillian for a moment, then gave her a smile, like she doubted the fools. She backed away and vanished from view.

"Lillian! There you are!" The Host took deep breaths as he came up the stairs. Lillian turned back around and shushed him. The Host upsettingly scowled at her and said, "Do not hush me mortal!"

He walked up to her and looked over the side of the banister to see the committee. Lillian begged to ask, "Who are they? What are they talking about?"

"The Group Regulating All Vex Entities. Our committee. I didn't know they were having a meeting. Did they not invite me?" The Host asked, a little offended. "I must report this to Madame Leota."

"Let's go!" Lillian started to walk back towards the stairs, but the Host held her back, "No. You will be staying safe and staying as far away from the high ranked ghosts."

"But I want to help."

"No, you want to touch everything and see how much you can break before you finally break my patience." The Host glowered at her. He wasn't completely wrong. He took a breath then concluded, "I'm going to need some asp-irin. Where did I put those snakes…?"

He took her back down into the staircase and led her along, following the same way he went to get there. As they continued along, unfortunately he found himself in an awkward position where he opened the door and was in a completely different place. They were back out in the pet cemetery where a few ghosts were gathered around going about their daily routine.

The Host sighed and let go of Lillian to go ask for help navigating the staircase. Because that worked so well before. Five headbusts were busy arguing with five musicians about music.

"Your new funko style is nothing compared to the classics!" One of the headbusts shouted. The horn player replied in a heavy voice, "Your old acapella is worn down and doesn't hold up to our new tunes!"

"What good is it if you can't sing worth a viper's tongue?" A moustached headbust replied, his deep voice echoing. The Host walked up to try to reason with them, "Excuse me, I'm looking for directions through the Web of Stairs?"

"Ah! Host! Methinks you can resolve this little dispute!" The string player pointed to him. The Host objected, "This really isn't necessary. I need to be working…"

"Yeah Host, you tell us which sounds better! Classic, older songs that were revolutionary then or calice newer music?" A headbust challenged.

"You mean, new, gorgeous and updated music that can use new techniques to improve its quality?" the drummer asked, sneering at the acapella singers. The Host sighed and said, "I suppose so. Lillian, sit down, you might learn something!"

"If you think its cool I probably won't!" Lillian shouted back. The Host sighed and sat down to listen to the two, "Headbusts, you go first."

"Excellent. What will it be?" The balding headbust asked. The Host sighed and thought, "Do a song about the bride."

"As you wish." The balding headbust replied, and started, "And a one and a two and a one two three!"

Hackaway!

Hatchaway!

I will love you all my days!

So you say!

Ms Hatchaway!

Some say she was a florist!

And we hoped she'd join our chorus!

But she did nothin' for us

Ms. Hatchaway!

Some say her love is lies

Or a fake disguise

And if someone tries,

She's already deep inside

Your frozen heart

Frozen heart!

If her life's going one way

I think I'll go that fun way

And maybe hope that one day

Hatchaway can hackaway from me!

Hack away! Hatchaway!

I'll give the stars and light of day

Don't throw our petty gestures all away!

And though you're in love with your crimes

You're always on my mind!

Ms Hatchaway!

Lillian eventually sat down next to the Host to listen, asking, "So what's going on?"

"We're trying to figure out which one is better at music, old or new." The Host answered. Lillian nodded, "Oh."

You saw our estates

You thought they were great!

We went up to the bedroom

And soon…

"Bedroom?" Lillian asked. The Host quickly realized something very wrong about older songs and covered Lillian's ears just in case.

You hacked away

So we decay

At the dismay

We'll never again be with Hatchaway!

The busts finished and the Host breathed a sigh of relief. The skinny bust asked, "Not too bad, eh? Classy, yet spooky."

"Did you listen to the lyrics! It's pretty easy to guess what was going on in a bedroom!" The Host corrected, "Don't you have any other songs that are a little more appropriate?"

"Of course!" The skinny headbust assured him.

I've got to go away

But baby it's cold outside…

I really can't stay

But baby it's cold outside…

"No no no! Did any of you read the lyrics?" The Host interrupted them. The busts looked at one another, "No, it's a classic, we didn't really think about it."

"That song is obviously about a very specific kind o R."

"Protecter?" One bust asked. The Host facepalmed and explained, "Yes, old songs are wonderful, but perspectives on matters change. What was appropriate once doesn't make it appropriate now. It's charming, but you could easily make small changes to make the song a bit more…acceptable."

"Well then, if you're so stuck up, how about you ask the newer musicians?" The moustached bust asked. The Host sighed, and looked to the Phantom Five, who were much more confident now that the Host criticized the busts. The Host sighed, then nodded to the players, "Go."

A swinging beat began to play from the tune.

Ba che ba de la dadede

Ba che ba de la dadede

Ba che ba de la dadada!

Hey!

Yeah

Alright.

Mm hmm

Zip doo ba

Dop

Dop

Ba ba

Zip leedee

Bop

Bop

Rew!

Shi la dee baba bop bop zing!

Dee la dee and a wop a ting!

La la la dee loppa ding dang doom

Shubuluba hubula

Ring rang room

Alright!

Alright now!

Be cha ba de la deee

Be cha ba de la deee

Zip dop zipper wop

Dance along to the Phantom Bop

Oh yeah

That's right

Oh yeah

That's right now

Zeepa liddle doodie a bop bop raew.

Lillian cheered, but the Host still had a few problems. He stared at them as the Phantom Five accepted the applause and bowed while the busts stuck their tongues out and scowled.

"Thank you. Thank you." The Horn player smiled broadly, confident they had won. The Host tentatively asked, "So…what was the story?"

"What?" The drummer asked.

"Everything needs a story. You could make the best song in the world but without a story it can't relate to people. The old songs all had stories. Some of them inappropriate and insensitive, but they were there." The Host explained. The Phantom Five were speechless for a second.

"Rather than trying to figure out which one is better, maybe you should instead work together to find out a catchy song that has a story behind it and will interest people. You know Grim Grinning Ghosts right?" The Host asked. Everyone nodded and the Host explained, "The reason its so timeless is because it's catchy and tells a story about all of us retiring here to the mansion to relax. So, instead of trying to say one or the other is better, integrating the two will yield something timeless."

"Hmm…" The balding bust looked to the Phantom Five and exchanged looks. "Fine then. We'll…try it."

"We really need some more vocals." The Phantom Five agreed.

"And we can't really get as high as that horn of yours." The mustached bust nodded reluctantly. The Host smiled broadly, knowing he had solved a problem, "Wonderful, now, do mind explaining to me, how to navigate the web of stairs?"

"I think the thespian knows. But he's a little busy right at the moment." The strings player admitted.

"With what?"

"As usual. Trying to impress the opera singer." The thin bust explained. The Host nodded, "Alright then…I sense a dangerous pattern emerging."

The Host lumbered over to the Thesbian, a scrawny ghost with a massive mustache who was hiding in the bushes as he watched a plump woman sing. He took a sigh and watched in awe, flutterstruck with love and admiration as the opera singer sang.

In den vergangenen Jahren habe ich gewartet

In langst erahnten Traumen…

Dass du an meiner Seite warst

Ich wache aus meinem Bett,

Und weiβt du,

Dass du gelogen hast Also werde ich

Scattdessen schlafen

Weicher Winter and Regen Halte uns weider zuruck

Also warden wir stattdessen schlafen…

In unseren traumen gehoren sie uns

Aus der Birke, aus der wir aufwachen Wir warden tanzen

Wie damals Zuruck,

Wer wir damals waren Die Nacht kommt

Und so warden wir wider schafen…

The thespian watched in a dreamy sigh. The Host interrupted him and scared the poor man to death, "Thespian!"

"Oh! Host! You startled me." The thespian held his chest. Lillian kindly asked, "We need your help navigating the Web of Stairs."

"I'd love to, really! But. I have to go in. Wish me luck!" The thespian left off as the Host tried to stop him, and he too sang the same song to the opera singer to impress her. When he finished, the woman clapped, "Wonderful my friend! Wonderful!"

She clapped, then went back and attended to do her own thing. The thespian, in the meantime tried to spark a conversation, "Ah yes, now, would you care to go and have dinner and…she's gone."

He slumped to the floor and frowned, his mustache following his lead. The Host walked up and kindly asked, "Would you care to share the vital information regarding navigating the web of stairs?"

"I would but…I am too heartbroken." He flailed back in a dramatic fashion.

"I see where this is going." The Host commented.

"If you could help me…"

"Here it comes…"

"I could help you…"

"Of course."

"Navigate the stairs."

The Host took a deep breath then called out to me, "Leota, are you trying to detract us from this paper thin plot as much as you possibly can? Would it kill you? Kill you? Just to focus on the story for three seconds?"

"Ok." Lillian agreed.

"You're too kind." The Thespian held his heart. "I don't understand what I'm doing wrong. I know she loves the song and I know she loves me singing it, but she isn't fascinated by it! She just laughs like its quaint!"

"Have you tried something else?" The Host asked as he rubbed his forehead.

"I don't trust it! I don't know any other songs she likes!"

"Ah yes, infatuation and poor foundation, the model of a perfect relationship…" The Host muttered to himself before asking, "Why don't you just write a new song?"

"What if she doesn't like it?"

"Then keep trying. Not every new thing you show someone is going to be likeable, but if you put effort and charm into it, perhaps they'll like it better than some of the other things they like." The Host explained before grumbling, "Expand your horizons, rather than carbon copying everything you do."

"But…"

"Go. Please. Please before I lock you both in a coffin and ship you down the river." The Host's eye was the size of a lightbulb in impatience.

"Very well, I will try. I shall spend the rest of my waking moments working to create the perfect song for her. I will not rest until—"

"Do this after you show us the way through the web please." The Host insisted. The Thespian obliged and agreed, "Yes, I cannot do it with you two breathing down my back. Now come! I will show you the way!"


	15. Chapter 14: Mourning Break

Pickwick peeked through the top of the floorboards of the attic. He eventually phased through when he knew the coast was clear and signaled the others to pass through. A few ghosts came up from the other corners of the attic, and on Pickwick's orders, prepared to move in. The ghouls slipped to the outer corners, while Constance sat next to a mirror, humming to herself. She watched carefully as she applied her makeup, using the larger mirror and her hand mirror to keep an eye out for any ghosts hiding behind cover.

Pickwick motioned for them to go around the mirror, and attack from the front so they couldn't get spotted. They shuffled along, floating through quickly so they didn't get spotted. Constance caught a glimpse of a rush of wind passing through the cobwebs and she smiled, before closing her powdering mirror. She summoned her axe instantly and spun outward from the chair before tossing the axe directly into the back of one of Pickwick's footmen.

The ghost let out a shout of pain before being dragged away. Pickwick and the others climbed up and attacked from all sides at the bride, trying to pin the bride. This was met with unsuccessful attempts.

She calmly walked towards the injured ghost to take back her axe, in the meantime, knocking away any of the attackers before finally reaching her blade. Constance took out the axe and dug it into the shoulder of one of her attackers before lightly pushing him away. She scanned the group that came at her for Pickwick, and eventually found her target. She walked forward with the axe and pushed the next attacker back before chopping into his side, followed by decapitating the next.

Her movement was alien, like she didn't even notice the carnage in her wake. She just had one target in mind, the rest were all collateral. One fool in a black hat and a mustache tried to come at her from behind and hold her back with a knife. This particular fool was named Jack, and he thought he knew what he was doing. He whispered to her, "You think I don't know what I'm doing my dear? I used to chop up people like you for kicks!"

Constance didn't kick him or anything, that would be rude. Instead, she spun her axe around and dove the blade straight into Jack's head without batting an eye. She then persisted in her pursuit of Pickwick, who was already trying to escape out the window. She flipped her axe back around and stuck it into his leg, catching him in his tracks. Pickwick gasped in pain and tried to escape, but was locked in place. Constance plucked out her blade and let Pickwick crawl on the floor, walking alongside him and lining up her shot.

"Pickwick, you're just another fool who thinks I'm easy picking. Do you know what happened to the last man who tried to bring me down?" Constance stepped on his leg and pushed on his wound to keep him in place. She chuckled, then answered her question, "Same thing that's going to happen to you."

She made a hard and fast chop, and Pickwick went limp. Constance picked up her prize, and chuckled, "Could you send a message for me?"

In the meantime, the Host and Lillian made their way back to the main hall. Lillian let out a yawn, and the Host himself was a little tired, but wouldn't admit it. They finally had a chance to talk one on one.

"So, what did they mean by you lost your mind?" Lillian asked, her eyelids drooping.

"Exactly what it sounds like."

"You don't seem insane to me."

"I lost _my_ mind. We aren't all spooky all the time. When there aren't any mortals, we can be very different people. When I lost my mind, the border holding me from becoming the character was nonexistent." The Host explained. They eventually came up to a set of Doombuggies that were in their resting position backstage. The Host sat down and patted the seat next to him for Lillian, who sat down beside him.

"So, who were you then?" Lillian asked as they sat down together. The guest and the cast member finally had a chance to actually talk.

"Does it matter who I was? Before I lost my mind? Before I died?" The Host asked, "My duty is to my guests. To my friends, to the Mansion."

"That sounds horrible."

"No, it's not. Many people say it's awful, but it's only awful if you let it be awful. Everything has its positives and negatives. But there's one factor people forget about."

"What's that?"

"This is a place for people to be happy. Mortals and spooks alike, we are supposed to be happy here. But it's a mutual relationship. We can only make you happy if you are willing to be happy. Sometimes that means that you'll be happy because you're angry. Few times that means that you don't want to listen. But…most of you are good. Dumb as a bag of rocks, but good." The Host looked to Lillian and sighed. She was fast asleep.

The Host fixed his hair, brushing it out of his face, then grimaced. "Somewhere, there are two brothers looking at this moment, thinking about this. Am I doing what I'm supposed to? I dunno. Would they be happy with what's happened here? Any of it?"

He sighed, then looked along the Mansion walls.

"Dammit Walt, Roy, did we do good? It's not perfect, but when you left us, we didn't know what to do for so long. Did we do it correctly?" The cast member asked. He closed his eyes and prayed that the ghost of those two would walk up and give some affirmation. But, they didn't. This massive land, this massive world, stretching across the globe, was their memory. A parting gift to them both, but whether or not it was what they wanted… the Host didn't know.

There was a massive click, and the torches around the room illuminated. A maid walked down to the buggies and spotted the two before calling for someone else. The Host gently lifted up Lillian and handed her over to the butlers and maids that came running to his aid. He stepped forward down the hall into the stretching room, looking at the portraits around him. Constance, Mister Gracey, Sally, and Phineas. The one who loved, the orator, the one who was beautiful, and the greedy one, all together. Then there was him, the one who was not beautiful, or rich, or powerful, or loved, hanging up above.

Now here, in this strange and confusing place, he was loved, he was powerful, he was rich and amazing. He had a purpose here in this massive place. And he would show everyone how amazing he could be.

The doors to the stretching room entered, and daylight pushed through to the room, and the Host faded from sight as the guests entered the mansion as they always did.

This ride was eerie, and creepy and spooky, and everything that it should be. Hatbox returned, and looked across from Constance, right next to his hoard, but something was very different in the ballroom scene. Pickwick was no longer hanging from the chandelier, but instead, his head was laying in the cake as a message to the ghost council.

The Host sang to himself a little as he let the guests in and set them firmly into the doombuggies,

"When the crypt doors creak and the tombstones quake…spooks come out for a swingin' wake."

I tucked my music box away as it began to play the one tune that kept the whole mansion alive. For the first time in years, I began to sing a little myself. Never enough to admit it to anyone, but enough for participation, "Happy haunts materialize, and begin to vocalize, Grim grinnin' ghosts come out to socialize."

Constance chuckled to herself in the attic and added as she drew her blade for the guests, "Now don't close your eyes and don't try to hide, or a silly spook may sit by your side."

Hatbox winked to the guests and followed her lead, "Shrouded in a daft disguise, they pretend to terrorize,"

His head reappeared in his hatbox, and continued, "Grim grinnin' ghosts come out to socialize."

The Caretaker looked out from behind his oak tree and shivered in the cold, then pointed out, "As the moon climbs high o'er the dead oak tree, Spooks arrive for the midnight spree."

The headbusts and Phantom five began to play the tune, "Creepy creeps with eerie eyes, start to shriek and harmonize, Grim grinnin' ghosts come out to socialize!"

The thespian and the opera singer burst out the next verse, "When you hear the knell of the requiem bell, Weird glows gleam where spirits dwell."

Phineas, Ezra and Gus stood there in their verse, "Restless bones etherealize, rise as spooks of every size."

Ezra promptly asked the guest, "Hey, can we catch a ride?"

The Ghostess asked the guests on their way out, "If you would like to join our jamboree

There's a simple rule that's compulsory.

Mortals pay a token fee, rest in peace, the haunting's fee

So, hurry back, we would like your company!"

The Host sat outside the exit as the guests left their buggies and added a verse, "Rising from our own decay, greeting you without delay, come join us if you may..."

Caesar and the other council members grimaced at Pickwick's head as it rested in their cake, and began to seriously reevaluate their decisions while the Host added his last verse, "Grim Grinning Ghosts are here to stay!"

The Host floated from the exit over to the entrance of the Mansion, and although no one could see him, he said, "To all who come to the haunted place, welcome…welcome."

Epilogue

Constance sat in her attic, chuckling her herself when something unusual passed in one of the buggies. An entire buggy was taken up by a tiny rubber duck. She stared at it for a second, and didn't notice a human sized claw machine coming up from behind her and picking her up. She let out a shout of surprise before immediately being dropped again.

"Gus! Be careful with that!" Phineas shouted as Gus continued to pick up Constance and drop her again. Gus replied, "These things never pick it up!"

"What is the meaning of this?" Constance lost her temper at the three as she tried to escape the device, kept just out at arm's length.

"Oh do you like it? It was Ezra's idea. You know, since you held him hostage? So we thought it would be dandy if we showed you what happens if you mess with one of us." Phineas gave her a cocky look. She wasn't so scary when she was being held up by a giant claw machine.

"See, we did some reading." Ezra pointed out. Gus rather obnoxiously asked, "You can read?"

"We did some reading, and found out your last husband was named George Hightower. His cousin Harrison owned a whole bunch of hotels, and boy is he mad at you."

"I'll tear you apart!" Constance tried to claw at them and swing at them with her axe, but ultimately failed.

"See, we think you need a vacation. And what do ya know? Harrison owns a big hotel over in Hollywood that he would love for you to see and talk about his cousin at. So we went ahead and booked you a reservation at the tippy top!" Ezra grinned. Phineas added, "Real deluxe suite, you'll love it. It's scenic, beautiful, and most importantly, far, far, away."

"I will find you and gut you all!" Constance screeched.

"I think that's enough of that." Phineas snapped his fingers and Gus spun the claw machine over to a coffin and dropped Constance inside, the lid closing her inside soon thereafter. She began to bash at the coffin and bang on it in a murderous rage. Phineas chuckled, then pushed the coffin out the window into a waiting hearse below. Ezra leapt down into the driver's seat, and the other two followed close behind. That hearse had one destination in time, and soon the hearse led into the dark and winding path leading up a massive building.

Lighting flashed above, and the light illuminated a stone sign by the path, that read, "HTH The Tower of Terror."

 _Thank you, foolish mortal, for reading all the way through. I must say, your determination has impressed us spirits, and we hope you hurry back. Though this may seem like the end, all ends are new beginnings, so we hope you follow so you can keep up with our miserable fates. If you have any question, please leave a ghost post in the review section, and we will get to it in due time. Our happy haunts would like to share some more stories with you, if you are so inclined. In the meantime, we will leave the choice to you._

 _Would you like to see us in our corruptible mortal states, and understand how we came to haunt these halls, or would you like to press forward into the Tower of Terror, where our happy haunts are headed. Which way will you go? Hm. Of course, there's always my way..._


End file.
